Life is Like a Hurricane
by AngelPines
Summary: Life is... a mess. I don't plan on sugarcoating that part. But let me tell you something. Working as an assistant to the richest duck in the world, having his estranged family move in, and going on all sorts of insane adventures... kinda makes it all worthwhile. Even if I do question my sanity every now and again. Discontinued!
1. Meet the McDuck

**Disclaimer: Hello! I'm AngelPines, nice to meet you.**

 **See, I'm currently writing a story already, and all of my other ideas after that are quite large. Not short and simple at all. I wanted a nice project to work on as I finish it up. To keep me occupied while I also work on a rewrite. That I could take my time with during my winter term of school.**

 **Ergo, this appeared. I'm relatively new to the fandom of Ducktales, but that never stopped me before.**

 **This is in the 2017 reboot, as I never really grew up with the original. Shame. It looked really cool.**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!**

 **April is my own character!**

"Speaking"

 _Thinking_

* * *

Let's start at the beginning, I guess. Well, as much of a beginning as one could have at 25.

I was… silly, I guess. Still am, actually. Silly, and young. Oh, and can't forget about alone.

Alone. Hehe. What a peculiar word. How much meaning behind it, really all depended on who you talked to.

I was fifteen when it happened. All I remember was flames, and screaming, and… darkness. What a thing it was to wake up in the hospital, bandaged from so many burns, a broken arm that was close to being amputated from bone damage, and a severe concussion. I was so confused, and immediately sprang my worry onto the nurse that came in to check up on me. Her explanation: electrical fire.

It took a few minutes, but eventually, it all came flooding back in a sea of emotions. Man, what a sight that was. I had been rocked awake by my mother in a rush, as flames were creeping out from under my bedroom door. The room was already heavy with smoke from the cracks in the frame. Seeing what was happening and knowing how limited timing was, I rushed to grab my emergency bag I kept stored under my bed and sprinted out after her. An emergency bag. It was a weird idea when I first had it, figuring it would be a good idea to have clothes, money, and anything important on-hand in case something ever came up.

And that something came up, all right.

Hacking raggedly like my lungs were being smothered, I spotted my dad at the end of the hallway, ushering us towards him. The house wasn't very new. It was older than most around the neighborhood, and we didn't have a good enough skeleton to keep everything standing with the blaze tearing at the wood. The roof… it had begun to collapse in on us just moments before we reached him. My mom… she never had a chance. It came down in pieces; a large beam striking her in the head, and that was it. The fire began to lick at her clothes and feathers, and I wanted so desperately to go back and save her, but he wouldn't let me.

Dad was… always the one to have other people go before him. He managed to hold up a large piece of rubble that blocked the door, giving me just enough room to slide underneath. I had barely made it out the living room before it all came crashing down around me. My arm was pinned under the rubble, and I passed out not long after that. The only memories I could recall of that day, besides how it started, was my dad screaming on the other side. It still hurts, even now, to think back on it.

By the time I was released almost a month later, I was so lost and confused. Where would I go now? I didn't have any relatives still living, at least around Duckberg. My parents had their wills already made out to me, but that would still take a while for it to all get processed. "Well… guess I should try to clear my head."

Wandering around aimlessly about the city, I found myself drifting out towards the waterfront. Trailing a hand along the back of a bench overlooking the ocean, I gave a long sigh. Moving around, I dropped into the seat after taking my bag off, and buried my head in my arms. I didn't cry. I was already out of tears from the time in the hospital. Tears about a lot of things. Why I was the only one to survive. Why did my dad risk his life for me. So… so many questions. I was emotionally exhausted, and tired, and… I just wanted my family back. _Was that… too much to ask?_

"Is this seat taken?" _Huh?_ Sniffling, I looked up to see who had spoken. An elderly white duck stood across from me, waiting for a response. Scottish, by the sound of his voice. He seemed… familiar, somehow. Like I should obviously know who he was. _But from where? I've never met him in person. At least, I don't think I have._

"N-no." Inching to the side, I allowed enough room for him to sit down.

"Thank you," he said. He wore a red frock coat, black… spats, I think they were called, and a top hat. A set of pince-nez glasses was perched on his beak, and he studied the ocean with a look I couldn't exactly describe. He seemed… conflicted about something. He kept muttering under his breath, and I couldn't pick up what it was. All he did was sit there, staring off over the ocean like I was supposed to be doing. Instead, here I was analyzing a complete stranger. _I suppose he needs to clear his mind too?_ I pondered. After a long silence that might have only been minutes, he turned to me, realizing that I was watching him. "Beggin' your pardon, but what brings a young girl out here at this hour?"

It was getting late. The sun had already begun to set over the water. "Well, I needed to clear my head," I answered truthfully. "Nothing more to say about that." He raised a brow, and glanced me over.

"Your arms say otherwise, my dear." Dang it, he had a point. The fire had burnt away most of my light brown feathers, leaving small patches of skin along my arms that should have been covered. The longer feathers that mimicked hair swept over my left eye were scorched at the tips, turning them black.

"Hehe, yeah. Should have put on a long sleeve shirt before heading out." Rubbing the back of my head, I grinned sheepishly. "It's nothing important, sir. Just need some air before going… going…" where am I going?

He seemed to get stuck on that sentence of me, mumbling it over. "Might I have your name?" He asked, resting his cane against the armrest of the bench.

"My name?" Was there a point in this? Why did he want to know? "April." No point in saying my last name. It wasn't really important anymore.

"April, eh?" He repeated. I nodded, agreeing with him. "I'm Scrooge McDuck." He held out his hand, and I gaped at him in shock. _Sc… Scrooge Mc-you got to be kidding me._ The richest duck alive!? What was he doing down here? More importantly, what was he doing talking to some random teen?

"I-it's nice to meet you," I stuttered, and shook his hand.

He chuckled. "No need ta be frettin' so much, child." _Yeah, keep telling me that._ "You're the girl who was in that house fire earlier this year, aren't ya?"

"I… that obvious?" I let go of his hand, resting my hand on the seat. "Sorry. I shouldn't be down here saying my life story to you. I can leave." I went to get up, only for Scrooge to take my wrist.

"Now, who's to say I didn't want ta hear it?" He… had a point there. Sitting back down, he gaze a long sigh. "Whenever you're ready, lass. I'll be listenin'." He… he wanted to hear my tale? But why? Why would he, Scrooge McDuck, care about my sob story?

"A-alright, I guess. I'll give you the notes version. A faulty plug in the kitchen set my house into an inferno, my mom suffered severe head trauma trying to get out, and she and my dad died inside. H-he managed to get me out, but just as I turned around the roof came crashing in. Killed them instantly." Breathing deeply, I moved my right arm. "Broke this pretty badly. Suffered a good amount of burns, which is why my feathers look even more off than normal when I don't give them a good brushing." My head just goes... everywhere in random spiked clumps. "I am currently waiting for the beneficiary to get through what remained of the wreckage before I receive what my parents left for me in their will, and then… heh, no clue what comes next. Got no family here, and seeing how I'm a minor, I'll probably be sent to a foster home until I turn eighteen." Chuckling bitterly, I glanced at Scrooge out of the corner of my eye. "There you go. The sad, sad tale of April." Boy, do I sound bitter.

Looking down at the cobblestones under my feet, I frowned. Why did I just do that? Why? _Huh? Wha-?_ A cautious but gentle hand rested on my shoulder, and Scrooge gave his own weak smile. "Aye. I, too, know what it's like ta lose someone close ta you." He patted the spot where his hand was, and brought it back down. "An aimless solitude, havin' no one to call family or friend." _Gee, way to make me feel better._ "But!" His exclamation made me jump, and he hopped off the seat. Taking his cane in his hand, he waved it in the air. "It's people like that who, despite the tragedy that befalls them, rise back to greatness! To become something better!"

I couldn't help it. This guy was really good at motivational speaking, I just started laughing. Hopping off the bench, I could make out the sun finally vanishing over the horizon, and the streetlights flickered on. "Yeah, well, I'm still a kid, Mr. McDuck. It's hard to bounce back at this age." Scrooge smiled, leaning forward on his cane. "What?"

"The first step in bouncin' back is opportunity." Wow, his accent was strong. It made certain letters sound much more pronounced. "And when that comes, you seize it. What would you say about comin' back with me? I could always use an assistant." An assis-an assis-he wants me to work for him? _Is-whoa, is he being serious right now? For real?_ "This is not a hand out, girl. This is a chance to get you back on your feet again."

"You-this is-holy-yes!" I cried, nodding furiously. "Yes! I'll take it, Mr. McDuck!" Scrooge gestured forward, and set off walking along the boardwalk. Quickly, I grabbed the bag I had set on the ground, and jogged after him.

"Lesson one, lass. You don't have to keep callin' me Mr. McDuck," he said, amusement in his voice. "Scrooge will be fine."

"O-okay, Mr-err, Scrooge. Scrooge." I had to say it twice to make sure it was engraved in my head. I mean, WOW! Scrooge McDuck, the richest duck in the world, had just asked me to work with him. Something like that just doesn't happen! I spotted the limo parked in front of us by the road, and Scrooge stepped inside. _Holy cow, I'm going to ride in a limo. Somebody might need to pinch me._ Moving around to the other side, I closed the door behind me.

"Comfortable?" Scrooge asked. I turned to face him after buckling myself in, and gave a quick nod. He turned to face the window that blocked our view of the driver, and gave a small gesture with his hand. With that, we peeled out of the parking spot, and began driving down the road.

"Um, S-Scrooge? Are you-I don't doubt your decision here, but aren't I little inexperienced and… young, to be your assistant?" _I'_ _m not_ _even done high school yet! I have so many questions, I just-oh!_ Breathe, April. Breathe. Remember to breathe.

Scrooge just laughed at that, shaking his head while I inhaled sharply. "Lass, that's not a problem at all. I'll ensure that my housekeeper can drive you to your classes when needed. As for your age concern, my legal team can help with that." _He's thought of everything so quickly, it's amazing._ I was impressed… and a little terrified. I'd hate to be enemies with him in business. "She should appreciate havin' you around, seein' how I've been using her as a secretary for the longest time."

I giggled at that, before staring out the window. But… I still had trouble wrapping my head around this. Seriously, an assistant to him!? That was incredible! "Scrooge, I really am serious though. I'm only fifteen. I'm still technically a child. A. Minor. You… are you really sure about this?"

"You doubt me?" A little…? "Honestly lass, I don't quite know myself. What I do know, is that squanderin' a chance like this is a fool's choice." He fished into his jacket, and pulled out a gold chain that was hidden under his neck feathers. On the necklace was the number one dime. I've heard stories about it, as it was the motivation the drake needed to sail to America to make his own fortune. "Risks might not always make sense at the beginning, but they're worth it at the end." Then why does he sound so sad about that? Scrooge sighed, almost regrettably, and tucked it away again. "Are ya willin' to take the chance? To risk it all on an offer from a stranger?"

 _Risk it all…?_ "Scrooge, I'll admit, I'm really questioning life choices right here. But… but I've already hit rock bottom." Giving a silent chuckle, I brushed my bangs to the side to reveal my eyes. "Unless someone decided to hand me a shovel, I got nowhere else to go but up. I'll take that chance."

"That-a-girl," Scrooge approved. "It'll be hard work, but I think you'll be cut out for it. Prove me right." He held out his hand, and I shook it. Scrooge glanced out the window, and smiled. "It appears we've arrived."

 _We've arrived? Wait, doesn't that mean-?_ "Whoa." I pressed myself against the window to get my own view, and wow! This was impressive! McDuck Manor was huge! White brick walls with several chimneys and a large tower in the middle of it, with a massive golden wall surrounding the property. An intricate metal gate led inside, with a speaker on the side to announce your intentions-was that a peacock!? "This is such a change from being stuck in that hospital room for a month," I murmured. A golden dollar statue stood in the center of a roundabout that we were driving into, with many large trees growing about the property. "You're really letting me stay in your home?"

"It's your home too, April." _It… it was, wasn't it? This… this was my life now._

But that, that was all just ten years ago.

Ten long and interesting years I'd spent working for the duck, and it was certainly… memorable. Business wasn't as hard as I'd initially thought it'd be. Running errands, filing, and attending meetings alongside him to take notes. Oddly, the stories I've heard about all those adventures he had done before I met him, remained a mystery. Even though I've asked on more than one occasion, he'd never said much to me. Normally, he'd just move to another room, or give a disappointed scowl at the nearest wall. Though, I did get more than enough information from the housekeeper, Mrs. Beakley's, granddaughter. The girl idolized the McDuck family, trying to know everything there was about them. Whenever I had a question ol' Scrooge wouldn't answer, I went straight to her.

Honestly, she reminded me of a more intimidating version of myself when I was her age. I blame this on Mrs. Beakley. Just like Scrooge, I don't let the old age fool me. She can be pretty intense. Her overprotective nature and quick reflexes kind of rubbed off on me. Due to her and Webby, I've more or less become a little bit jumpy, considering Webby jumpscares me at least once a week. I can think of at best ten times I've accidentally flipped Scrooge's private driver, Launchpad, all because he caught me off guard.

Speaking of Launchpad… did I really need to go into detail about him, other than he can crash almost anything? Pretty sure when I had asked him about this, he said something like if it had wings, he could crash it. Yet... he is the personal driver of Scrooge. How the-why did we end up hiring him?

Besides a few behavioral changes, I hadn't really changed much either. Physically, I mean. My light brown feathers did grow again over my burns, but not in the same shade as before. They were lighter, and faint scar marks outlined the patches. I didn't wear anything overly fancy for the job, which I was thankful for. A black jacket with a white fur trim around the collar, a light green and black striped tank top, and a denim skirt. A maroon knitted hat sat on my head, keeping my shoulder length feathers in place. It was simple. Not overly fancy, but nothing too casual. I mean, hard to be too casual when I also went and chose to wear a matching silk maroon scarf to go with the whole getup.

Grinning, I glanced out of my window seat over the garden far below. Ten years of working for Scrooge McDuck did get boring now and then, what with all the money and finances and junk. And so… so many coffee runs. I could still smell the beans on me sometimes after a long day's work. But still, I loved it. Seriously, it's kinda hard not to hate a man who didn't have to go out of his way for you when you were down on your luck.

But just because I lived there, doesn't mean I still didn't think back on it. Sighing, I looked over at my bed. My room itself wasn't anything impressive. Dark blue walls with glow-in-the-dark paint on the ceiling to mimic the stars and constellations that took ages to paint. I still add more to it even now. A bathroom was off to the side, an oak dresser and bedside table, and a queen sized bed.

And on said table was a lightly burnt picture of my parents and me in a frame Scrooge got me. Heh. Not a day goes by that I don't think back on it. I've questioned it, so… so many times. I still have regrets, asking that same question I had back on that bench. Family, and junk. It's… hard to recover completely from something like that. But I'm trying. Th-that's what's important… isn't it?

A loud honking tore me away from my internal wreck, and I looked back out the window and towards the driveway. I could see the limo outside of the gate, and another car just ahead of it. Scrooge had gotten out of his ride, as did the mystery duck who was in the other vehicle, and they walked up to each other. "Who is that?" I squinted, but gave up trying to see more clearly. "Best to go down and check for myself, I guess."

Recovering from personal loss was-is… hard. But maybe… just maybe… whatever is coming my way with this new arrival could fix that.

* * *

 **There we go! Like I said above, I'm new to the fandom, and I'm trying to make sure I fit Scrooge's personality to a T.**

 **Chapters will be posted whenever I can. I just entered my winter term, and classes should be picking up really quickly soon.**

 **Until next time!**

 **Angel**


	2. Send in the Triplets

**Disclaimer: It's nice to see that there are some people interested in the first chapter. Hope you're ready for the next chapter!**

 **On another note, I have no clue how this one chapter got so huge. It's over 6000 words!**

 **RainbowCelin: Thank you! I was hoping I nailed his character.**

 **StoriesUnleashed: Technically, she isn't a duckling.**

 **ultima-owner: Yes, yes it will be.**

 **1234BlueLagoon: Thanks! I will!**

 **L.A Taiva: For the story I'm aiming for to work, I needed a backstory similar to this. To have the type of bond she'll have with the McDuck clan, this was needed. It's kinda hard to come up with anything truly original as mostly everything's been done before. Besides, there wasn't a lot of planning put into this as I just wrote it on a whim.**

 **GuestGirl: I will!**

 **April's mine! Now, onto the show!**

"Speaking"

 _Thinking_

* * *

Making my way down the staircase that fed into the hallway my room was on, I walked with purpose to the front door through the living room. It was a relatively dark room, as light somehow only found a way in through one window. Pictures of Scrooge from different adventures decorated the walls, especially the large one hanging above the fireplace. An umbrella and a sword sat together near the flames for decoration, along with a small table holding apples and diamonds in a bowl. Why he insisted on that, I never really knew.

Opening up the large oak door, I stepped outside just as Mrs. Beakley came out from another hall to see what the commotion was. I could hear Scrooge and the mystery duck yelling at each other on the other side of the gate. "Jettison that jalopy from my driveway this instant, you deadbeat!" Scrooge shoved him back with his cane before planting it firmly on the ground. Yeesh. Whoever this guy was must have really done something to upset Scrooge.

"Oh, here we go! Giving orders like he's the richest duck in the world!" The unknown drake exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. I walked slowly, hand over my mouth to smother my giggles. It-it's just-wow, his speech was amusing. And I thought Scrooge's accent was fun to listen to. This was glorious!

"I am the richest duck in the world!" Scrooge argued back. "Now move!" From my line of sight, I could've sworn there were three heads in the car parked in front of the limo. Boys, I believed, judging by the looks of them.

"I would love to! It just so happens I have a job interview!" He pointed his thump behind him in the direction of the city, going along with his point.

Scrooge looked him over, noting his choice in attire. "So, why are you standing there yelling!?"

"Mrs. B. said that you would watch the boys!" He pointed from him to the car behind him, squinting his eyes at Scrooge. Ah, so I was right about there being children in the car. "Can you do that without losing them!?"

"Of course I can!" Scrooge exclaimed, clearly exasperated at this point.

"Fantastic! Thank you **so** much!" The duck said sarcastically, rolling his shoulders as he turned around.

"You're welcome!" Scrooge finally ended their bizarre argument, before he realized what he just agreed to. "Wait, what now?" The unknown duck went to open the car door, and the three kids climbed out. _Triplets, huh?_ Haven't seen many before. One was in a red t-shirt and ball cap, one wore a dark blue shirt with lighter blue sleeves, and the last wore a green hoodie.

"Huey, Dewey, Louie, meet Scrooge McDuck," he introduced the boys. It looked like they were in order from how he addressed them. The three smiled smiled at Scrooge pleasantly, trying to contain their excitement. "Remember, no tricks, no lies, no trouble."

"Yes, Uncle Donald," the boys echoed, turning to look up at him. _Wait, Uncle Donald?_ It couldn't be… could it?

"I wasn't talking to you," Donald told them, narrowing his eyes at Scrooge. The elder duck did the same, both visibly displeased with the other. That is, until Scrooge caught sight of me on the other side of the gate. I gave a small wave, shrinking back nervously. _Was this something I wasn't supposed to see?_

"Launchpad, tell Beakley to open up the gate," he said back to the limo. The iron doors slowly creaked open, giving them passage into the Manor. Donald, without another word, climbed into his car and drove around the loop inside before going past them on the way out. I stepped clear of his path, and it looked like he didn't even notice me off to the side of the driveway. Launchpad drove through, going off to park the limo as Scrooge and the triplets walked the rest of the way to the front door. I jogged to catch up, and went inside with them. Well… after Scrooge went and closed it on the kids and then Mrs. Beakley opened it for them.

"Beakley, who are those kids?" I whispered to her as I slid inside. The kids followed Scrooge into the Manor, watching everything in fascination as they moved across the red carpet lining the manor.

"Those are his nephews, April. And I advise you to help keep an eye on them while they are here." She went off towards the area where they went, leaving me to process what she just said. Scrooge's… nephews. How-it's just-how!? Did he have any siblings that I wasn't aware of? I knew all about his adventures, and if that Donald was the right one I was thinking of, then that meant he was Scrooge's nephew and the one Webby went on and on about in her stories.

Curious, I ventured off after the others. I could hear them in the dining area; the boys' rapid questions echoed down the hall. Poking my head inside of the dining room, I could see Mrs. Beakley off to the side watching as well. It wasn't as fancy as the other rooms in the manor, but it still stood out among what most would consider normal. Light blue walls, brown tiled flooring, tall stained glass windows and purple curtains. There looked to be three chairs at my end that the triplets were originally sitting in, with Scrooge's parents' portrait hanging above their heads, but it looked like they had all moved up to the large king-sized chair Scrooge sat in so they could talk to him. It seemed I had reached a tipping point in their question load though. Poor Scrooge looked so confused at the amount of information spilling from them. I did, however, hear the last question from the green one.

"You used to be a big deal! Whatever happened to you?" _Oh, he did not just go there._ One of the many, many lessons that Scrooge McDuck had taught me was never to pressure him about his past. I've known him longer than these kids did, and I didn't no zip. As if they'd get anything out of him either.

Shaking angrily in frustration, Scrooge rose from his seat, slamming his newspaper on the long table. "Ugh, Beakley!" _Okay, time to skip out again._ Closing the door gently, I made my way out of the hall. I wonder how Webby's going to take our newest arrivals? Probably scare them to death first, and then bombard them with questions about Donald.

"Maybe I should go hunt her down beforehand," I mused. Let me say, this mansion is a maze. So many halls look the same, even now it could get hard to find where you want to go. Webby's room was actually more of a small attachment to a larger room filled with mementos and artifacts dedicated to the McDuck clan. Not sure how she found all of this information, but it's pretty impressive. Approaching her door, I gave a rap on the wood. "Webby? Can I come in?"

The door opened a crack, and she popped her head out. "Oh, hey, April! What is it?"

"Just thought you ought to know we've got some guests staying with us. Why don't you go introduce yourself." She gasped loudly, and ducked back inside. Stepping inside to watch, I noticed all of the lights were off. "Uh, Webby?" The girl dashed past me without another word, rope in hand before running down the hall from where I originally came from. "Oh, boy. I think I made a mistake here."

Well, it's too late now. Moving into the corner of the room, I leaned against the wall. Won't be long now until those poor kids are tied upside-down to the ceiling. To pass the time, I took out a notebook I kept stored inside my jacket, and clicked the pen stuck inside the coil binding. As Scrooge's assistant, I also had to keep track of meetings and events. Though, I wouldn't lie that I used this for my own personal use too. Maybe that's why he let me decorate the cover to mimic my bedroom ceiling. _What can I say except I love the nighttime?_

Taking my time, I made detailed notes on how today was going so far. Triplets, Donald and Scrooge's scuffle outside, and how unfortunate it was going to get for the boys when Webby gets a hold of them. "Sounds like she got them." I could hear the screams coming this way.

Stuffing my notes away, I watched Webby burst through the door, and quickly tie the trio to a hook on the ceiling. She turned on one of the bulbs, giving them enough light to see around them but not enough to see the whole room. "I'll put the marbles back, I swear!" The blue one yelled desperately.

Webby jumped down from a chair, circling around them in the shadows. "Who sent you? Ma Beagle? Glomgold? Answer me!" She growled.

Red and blue remained quiet, too scared to respond. "U-uncle Scrooge!" The green one sobbed, close to tears.

"Alright, Webby," I finally spoke up. "I think you've had enough fun." Webby stuck out her tongue, before registering what the boy said.

"Uncle Scrooge!? Oh my gosh, the nephews!" I turned on the lights, and the three looked at her and me in confusion. Webby rolled a chair back over to them, and pulled a dagger out of the map behind them.

"Wait, you know us?" The same boy asked just as they were cut loose. Falling to the ground in a heap, the trip groaned as they got to their feet.

"Of course! Researching Mr. McDuck and his family is kind of my hobby," Webby explained. She tossed the knife across the room, letting it scatter to the floor as she ran around them excitedly. "What are your blood types? What's Donald really like?" I giggled as she plucked a feather from the green one's head. "Who's the evil triplet?"

"Louie," blue and red answered immediately, pointing at the brother.

"Eh," Louie shrugged in agreement. _Okay, let's see if I have this correct. I don't want to keep going off colors all the time,_ I thought. Louie is green; that's known now. If the order was correct when Donald listed them off, then Dewey is blue, and Huey is red. I… think I'm right? _I should write this down later so I don't forget._

"Tell me everything!" Webby snapped a picture of them, stunning them for a moment. Taking the picture from the bottom of the camera, she walked across the room as they tried to clear the spots from their eyes.

"Um, we live with our uncle?" Louie said slowly.

"On a boat?" Dewey added. Poor kids. Webby scared them silly right off the bat. _Now I know what it's like when it happens to someone else._ At least it's not me this time.

"Go on." Webby got a thump tack out from a can on a desk, examining the photo.

"Kinda it. We're just a normal, boring family," Huey said.

"Normal, boring? HA!" Webby laughed, before kicking a volley ball at the triplets. Screaming, they ducked out of the way as it hit the wall. The map chart covering it rolled upwards, revealing her prized research of the McDuck clan. The boys oohed in amazement, and Webby pinned the picture to the board. "Huey, Dewey, and Louie Duck." She wrote their names on the bottom with a black marker, tossing it over her shoulder. Taking one of the strings running around the board, she looped it around the tack to connect it with the rest of the family. "Scrooge McDuck's great-nephews on his sister Hortense's side with Quackmore Duck twice removed!" So, he does have a sister. _Would have been nice if he told me at least something about his family why I was here._ How does she get all of this information anyway? I mean, who does she talk to?

"And you two are?" Dewey asked, looking from Webby to me still by the wall. I gave a small wave, and walked over to them.

"Oh, right," Webby said. She pointed at two drawings on the board of her and Mrs. Beakley. "Webby Vanderquack. My granny's the housekeeper." She twirled her hair feathers nervously.

"April, at your service," I smiled. "I'm Scrooge McDuck's personal assistant."

"You work here?" Louie asked, glancing me over. "You seem a little-"

"Young?" I interrupted. "Kid, I'll have you know my age means nothing. Just because I'm the youngest employee he has, doesn't mean people don't respect me." It's nothing I haven't heard before. When I first started, people thought it was a joke having me work for Scrooge. How much it meant to me when he would stand up for me, and then sometimes let me demonstrate why I should be taken seriously. I, uh... can be just as vicious as Scrooge when push comes to shove.

"I was gonna say cute, but hey, young works too." The boy winked at me, and I blanched at the action. _Uh... okay?_ Great. One of the boys is a flirt. Perfect.

"Wait!" Webby cried. "Are we… friends now?" She leaned in, watching their reactions.

"If we say yes, will you let us live?" Huey asked worriedly.

Webby scoffed, finding their behavior hilarious. "Pffft! Good one, new best friend!" She took a string, looping it from their photo to her drawing and wrote " **friends** " underneath in a red marker.

"So, friend, what do you do for fun around here?" Louie asked, hands in his hoodie's pocket. Webby sat the marker on the board's ledge, and grinned.

"Oh! I'm the best at fun! Um…" she looked around, before kicking at the vent grate beside her. "Yeah!" It fell down in a bang, and she gestured to it. "Don't tell granny," she told me as she disappeared inside.

"I won't," I replied, laughing. "Have fun, you three. I best be checking in on your uncle."

"You're not gonna stop us?" Huey asked me as I opened the door. Turning around, I looked at the triplets. Besides clothing, there were clear differences in their attitude. Louie seemed much more laid back. Dewey appeared to be on the adventurous side, having already gotten on his hands and knees to crawl inside the vent, and Huey seemed more thoughtful and intelligent.

"My job isn't to babysit. It's to make notes, schedule appointments and meetings, and stuff like that. You guys aren't my responsibility, even if I am to help keep an eye on you today. Besides, it's been ages since new people have been in this manor. Webby hasn't been this excited in ages." Before they could say anything else, I ducked out of the room and closed the door.

"Where, oh, where, could that Scottish duck have gone to?" I mused. "Hmmm." Closing my eyes, I let my ears do the work for me. Somewhere, a few halls away, I could just make out the muffled shouting of Scrooge. "Bingo." Taking my leave, I made my way through the maze of corridors towards where I believed I heard his voice. I watched Launchpad sneak his way down the hall away from a specific door, just as I heard Mrs. Beakley raise her voice at Scrooge.

Approaching the closed door, I hesitated at the knob. Why do I feel… like I shouldn't enter? Something important was happening here, that perhaps I should not interrupt. Instead, I leaned against the wood, pressing my head against it. "I have enough excitement caring for Webby," Mrs. Beakley said. "Perhaps you should spend some time with your family.

"Oh, aye? Hang up my spats? Become the doddering old relic everyone thinks I am, spinning yarns to those loud-mouth young 'uns about the man I **used** to be?" Scrooge retorted.

"You have avoided them for ten years!" Wait, what? _Ten.. years? He's… that day by the water?_ Scrooge… something was clearly bothering him when I first met him. The look on his face, and how torn-up he seemed. He hadn't interacted with his family, his own flesh and blood for ten years?

"Because family is nothing but **trouble!** " Scrooge shouted, and I leaned away from the door as if the words struck me. To be honest… it felt like they did. It was like a slap to the face. "I'm Scrooge McDuck. I made my name being tougher than the toughies and smarter than the smarties. And I made my money square-on my own, no nephews, no family-no one helped me there, and I don't help now."

Stepping back away from the door, I gripped my chest. He wasn't being serious, was he? Not needing anyone's help, and not needing any family? I-it stung. It hurt. Hearing the doorknob beginning to turn, I dashed down the hall where I initially came from and turned a corner. I didn't want to see him. Not right now.

 _Scrooge… was I just a distraction to him?_ I thought, face downcast. Trudging down the empty corridor, I stared down at my feet as I went. Was I just a distraction from whatever separated him from his family? From Donald, and the triplets, and his own problems? A mopey teen being the perfect fit for a substitution to put his attention on instead? "After all," I bitterly chuckled. "No need to connect to a lowly assistant."

Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I passed by the door to the garage, when I heard… screaming? "Huh?" Stopping, I turned to the door and opened it. I was drained mentally at this point. I no longer had the patience to deal with whatever mayhem she dished out on them. "Webby, if you're scaring the boys, I-HOLY COW!"

Huey, Dewey, Louie, and Webby were dodging a glowing sword as it flew around the room, threatening to chop their heads off. A ghostly pirate was on the other side of the room, and-why on earth would a horse not have a head!? "Webby!" The four snapped to look at me, and I grabbed a small box and threw it at the ghost's head. It fazed through him, but it bought my enough time to drag the four off to the side and avoid the sword. "You are in so much trouble!"

"I didn't mean for this to happen! The ghost was unintentional!" She argued. The headless horse-man… thing, stumbled around the room, and banged into a gong in the corner.

"That's twice!" Dewey cried.

"One more, and something terrible could happen!" Webby shouted. _You mean it was already hit once!?_

"What could be worse than this!?" Louie asked.

"What in dismal downs is going on in here?" Slowly, we all turned around, and found Scrooge glaring at us. The duck was dragging a wet suit behind him, and he pointed his cane at us.

"There it is," the triplets echoed in unison. Dropping the suit, Scrooge marched up to us, looking at our worried faces. "Why aren't you in your rooms?"

"Hit the deck!" I shrieked, dragging Webby out of the way as the sword came flying past. Screaming, I brought her, Huey, and Dewey behind an opened safe's door. Louie dragged Scrooge in behind him, and we all watched the madness from our safe zone.

"We've got this. There are five of us and three of them," Huey informed us as he poked his head out. "If we wait-never mind. They teamed up." The ghost now had his hand on the sword, wielding it over his head as he sat on the horse-man. Man-horse? _Why is it even a thing!?_ Scrooge joined me and Huey in watching the disaster, and smirked.

"Ah, good, that means only one target." Before we knew it, he moved towards the creatures. Dewey poked his head out in shock, waving his hand.

"No, get back! You're old!" He yelled.

"Oi, beastie! What's it gonna take to shuffle you off to the afterlife?" Scrooge asked with both hands planted on the top of his cane, keeping a fair distance between him and the ghost.

"The head of Scrooge McDuck!" The ghost shouted, and his head became engulfed in bright blue flames, turning his skull face black. Scrooge, still with that grin on his beak, cracked his neck. Twirling his cane in the air, he got it again, holding it as if it were a sword.

"Would you settle for his hat?" The ghost roared, and the man-horse began to charge. Scrooge took his hat, and threw it through the ghost's face, Blinded for a brief second, it wasn't aware of duck sprinting towards him and then sliding underneath them. Straightening back up in front of a statue of himself, he grinned as the ghost whirled around and threw the sword at him. It easily sliced through Scrooge's neck, sending his head flying.

The children and I gasped, but relaxed once they saw it was the statue that was chopped off and not their uncle. Scrooge caught the head, gesturing to it with a sly grin. "There's your head." He tossed it at the ghost, who stared at it in horror.

"Oh! I should've been more specific!" He bellowed, vanishing in a blue smoke. The head fell and landed on the man-horse, who happily tapped its hooves before running off out the door. Scrooge took his top hat off the ground, dusting it off before putting it back on. The children cheered, rushing past me and up to Scrooge in celebration. I was happy too, but that didn't mean I was going to rush up there and forget all of what happened ten minutes ago didn't exist.

Scrooge slammed his cane against the ground, shutting them up. "We can explain," Louie began nervously. "We came down to your secret museum to look for you, because… we… love you?" He hugged his uncle awkwardly, and Scrooge raised a brow.

"Secret museum? This is the gar-age!" He fished a remote from his coat and pressed a button. On command, the entire back wall went up to reveal the front yard.

"The what?" Dewey and Huey echoed.

"Do you mean 'garage'?" Louie asked. _Yeah, his accent takes time getting used to._

"Pfft! No, that's ridiculous," Webby said behind them. "If this is a garage, then how do you explain all this amazing stuff? Like the garden hose of destiny? Or Montezuma's stack of old magazines?" Okay, now you're just making stuff up. "Or-oh, yeah. I-it's a garage."

"Unbelievable," Scrooge exclaimed. "I invite you into my home-"

"You locked us in a room!" Louie cut him off. The boys glared angrily at him, while Webby side-stepped towards me.

"I gave you marbles!" He defended.

"All we wanted was to hang out with you," Huey said desperately.

"Well, now you have, and look at the mess it's got me!" Scrooge gestured to the room and the boxes spilled everywhere. I saw Dewey was about to say something else, but my brain decided to not work with me today and dig myself into a larger pit.

"Well, it ain't like you ever cared about family, eh, Scrooge?" Everyone turned to me in surprise, seeing that I spoke up. "After all, what do I know, huh? I'm just some poor kid you took off the street after hearing her wee pity party. So then why should you have the need to care about me or anyone else when you're tougher than the toughies and smarter than the smarties, you selfish blaggard?"

"She's right. Looks like family is nothing but trouble, right, Scrooge?" Dewey said after I was done my mini rant, arms crossed.

Scrooge's eyes widened at our comments, stunned. Maybe he was expecting it from the boy, but not me. Scowling deeply, he whispered, "everybody out."

"But we're-" Huey started.

"OUT!" Scrooge bellowed, and swung his cane. To our horror, it ended up hitting the gong. _That, uh, was the third time, wasn't it?_ The children gasped, and we stepped back. "Oh, what are you gaping at? The course is only activated if you ring the gong three times and-and-and you already hit it two times, didn't you?" The stone dragon statue behind the gong began to crumble, revealing gold underneath. Scrooge, ever the wiser, stepped back to join us at a safe distance.

With a loud rumble, the rock all fell away, revealing a golden Chinese dragon. Its head twisted around before it burst through the roof of the garage, looking around. "Pixiu, the Gold-Hunting Dragon," Webby breathed.

"Gold hunting? Sounds great!" Louie said cheerfully.

" **Not** when you're Duckburg's single largest owner of gold!" Huey explained, voice rising at the end. The dragon sniffed around, and we saw its head stare off at the island in the distance. _Oh no._

"Ah! Me money bin!" The dragon began to make its way out of the hole in the roof, and Scrooge gave chase after it. Climbing up the rubble on the floor, he quickly turned around to face us. "To your rooms!" His last word got dragged out as he grabbed the dragon's tail, and was pulled away into the sky. The five of us stood there, staring at the golden dot high above us. Louie, I'm not sure if the others noticed, stuck a green sticky note to a vase.

"Where are you going?" Looking out of the garage towards the yard, I saw Webby had started walking out of the mansion. The setting sun bouncing off her face.

"I'm gonna go eat a hamburger!" Webby declared. The boys exchanged looks, and nodded as a whole.

"We're in," Dewey said, speaking for the group as a whole.

"Cool." Webby went to start running, but glanced from the gate to them. "To be clear, I'm gonna go catch the dragon. The hamburger was a metaphor from before, I-"

"Yeah, yeah, no, we get it, we get it. But how are we gonna get up there?" Dewey asked.

"I'm a pilot." I turned to see Launchpad sticking is head out of the door eagerly.

"Alright. Launchpad, start up the plane. Kids, find whatever you think will be useful and meet us in the back. Let's go save your uncle." I still have more than a few choice words to say to that drake. With that being said, I broke off from the four and followed Launchpad to the backyard. I've only ever been up in the plane once before, when Scrooge had to go overseas for a large conference. He hated leaving his home back then; living the life of a recluse. I think I was the most excitement he's had since that falling out with Donald happened- _no. No, stop that. You're still mad at him, April._

Once the engine was running, the kids dashed inside the plane, and we took off on the runway. "Alright, if we're gonna do this, we'll have to be quick about it." Clapping my hands together, I lowered the bay door again. "Launchpad, circle about in case Scrooge falls off that lizard. Don't need him becoming a pancake."

"Yes, ma'am!" Launchpad shouted back at me. I could see the dragon pass over us, with no Scrooge on board. I loud thump came from one of the wings of the plane, and I watched Scrooge come sliding off of it. Quickly, I reached out of the plane, wind whipping past me and grabbed his outstretched hand. Dewey grabbed my other hand, and the kids continued the chain. With a yank, we pulled him inside the plane, and Launchpad closed the door from the cockpit. Scrooge, visibly tired and bruised, looked up at us. We all smiled down at him, while Huey was cheering loudly in the back.

"I thought I told you to go to your-"

"No time. We gotta work fast," Dewey stopped him, helping him to his feet.

"Webby, how do we stop it?" Huey asked her.

"it's mystical, so we need a mystical device, like an Oblivion Mirror or a Medusa Gauntlet, or-"

"Like this?" We all turned to Louie, who was sporting said gauntlet on his hand. Webby crossed her arms, growling at him while Huey glared disapprovingly.

"What? April did say to take anything that might help." Shoot. I did, didn't I? He took off the device, and handed it over to Scrooge. Moving towards the window, I watched the dragon begin to tear at the money bin's roof.

"Good thinking, kid. Now do any of you have something to get him down there?" I asked. Huey moved to the side, and ran back over to me with the garden hose.

"Garden hose of destiny!" He cheered. Handing it to Dewey, he ran up to Launchpad as the three kids began to tie it tightly around Scrooge. "Launchpad, we need to swing him out. Nosedive towards the bin and get ready to pull up!"

"Yes, sir, random kid I just met!" We began to descend towards the bin, and the door opened for us.

"Any questions?" Dewey asked Scrooge, holding the end of the hose.

"Since when is Launchpad a pilot?" _Dude, he's been going on and on about it ever since you hired the man!_ Scrooge leaped out of the plane, flying in the wind above us as we readied to swing back up as fast as we could. With great aim, he grabbed the dragon's tail, and we gripped the hose together to keep him connected to us.

"You guys, our family is **awesome!** " Dewey announced. A blue shimmer came from the glove, and I watched the magic flow through the dragon, turning it to stone before our very eyes. However, the sudden shock of it frightened the beast, making it twist in the air and send Scrooge flying into the air and out of our grasp. "SCROOGE!" We shouted, watching the hose fall away.

Scrooge untied the hose as he fell, and vanished from view as he went into the bin below. The door closed, and we scurried to the windows to watch the gold in the bin. The coins shuffled below, and suddenly Scrooge popped out at the top, spitting coins out of his mouth and raising his hands in victory.

The kids gave a loud cheer, as Louie shouted, "he swims in money! I knew it!" _Guess he's talking about the money swimming rumors._ But… we did it. That-wow, hehe. This must have been the most excitement I've had in years since I first moved in here.

Launchpad turned around to look at us, smiling. "Aw, family truly is the greatest adventure of-oh, no, the ground!"

And this is why I never want to travel with the man. "Launchpad, pull up!" I shrieked. Grabbing the kids, I threw them to the ground and pinned them to the floor. "Brace yourselves!" He didn't have much time to get out of the nosedive, and we cried out in alarm as the plan rumbled underneath us, skidding across the ground and grinding to a halt. "A… are we done?"

Letting Webby, Huey, Dewey, and Louie get to their feet, we quickly got out of the plane, followed by Launchpad himself. Groaning, we turned to see that we had crashed into the side of the money bin. "Another successful landing," Launchpad announced, smiling… and then the front of the plane caught fire.

Sighing, I saw the garden hose laying off to the side in a shrub. "Launchpad. Hose down the fire, will you?" The pilot saluted me, grabbing the hose and going off to attach it to the side of the money bin. The kids and I moved to sit on a piece of rubble, and just as planted myself, Scrooge came walking around the corner of the island. Coat torn in several places and feathers ruffled, he stormed in front of us, and I grabbed Webby's hand for hers and my comfort.

The old duck began to pace, and we waited for him to lose his temper on us. "In the short time I've known you, you've wrecked my home and my money bin, unleashed several ancient evils, and almost got me killed… twice!"

"Four times if you count each monster as an individual time," Huey informed him. Scrooge moved closer to us, and I gripped Webby's hand tighter. _Well, that's it. Say goodbye to your home and jo-is he laughing?_ Scrooge moved over to sit between Louie and Huey kicking his legs excitedly and waving his arms in the air.

"That was incredible! When you pulled me into the airplane and said 'no time'! And who would have thought of a Medusa Gauntlet!? Brilliant! Oh, and then you swung me out and pulled up just in time and- ah ha ha ha!" He got up, resting his hands on the cane. "You kids are nothing but trouble! Curse me kilts, have I **missed** trouble! I suppose I'll have to keep an eye on you and teach you how to get into trouble properly." He took out his phone, and dialed a number.

We all looked at each other, leaning forward. "You mean…!?" Dewey asked, hope clear in his voice.

"Beakley! Clear my schedule! I'm taking the wee ones on a field trip." The kids jumped off their seat, grinning while I stood up and moved beside Launchpad who came up behind me. "Now, let's go find the lost city of Atlantis!"

"Yeah!" The kids cheered loudly.

"And no one tell your uncle Donald!"

"YEAH!" I sighed softly, seeing how happy they were so thrilled with the change in Scrooge's behavior. Still, though… I was holding a grudge against him for what he said back there. Venting my frustration out on the old man helped, but he actually had me scared that he was about to boot me out all for yelling at him.

Though, I will admit, I do question his thinking. Since when was a life-or-death situation fun? "Hmm. Launchpad, why don't you take the children into the money bin while we await for the limo? I need to be havin' a word with my assistant." The children's cheering died down, and I saw them looking at me. I, uh… oh, I'm in trouble now, aren't I? Launchpad nodded, and led them away towards the front door on the other side of the island. I caught Louie's gaze, and smiled in reassurance. If I was going down; heck, I was going down fighting. "Now, April-"

"Stop." I raised a hand. "I get it. What I said back there was-it's just… Scrooge, I'm sorry for that. My emotions got the best of me." The duck shook his head, and turned to look over over the rocks to the sea below.

"It'd be my fault for your behavior, lass. You were perfectly right in the things you said. I assume you heard my conversation with Beakley?" Deadpan was his answer. Sighing at my expression, Scrooge turned away from me again. "There's much more to it than that, April. You're no distraction, and you're certainly not a hassle to me. Maybe at first I thought of you as that, but I meant when I said there was something worthwhile in ya. The same spark some fool saw in me, I saw in you." I felt his hand lift my chin up to meet his eyes, and I smiled. This was the Scrooge I remembered. "Aye, my family is a mess, but it appears I be on my way to fixing it. What do you suppose I be doing to mend this, my trusted assistant?"

 _Aw, Scrooge._ "Give them a shot, just like you did with me, Scrooge," I replied. "Chances like this here don't come often, and you shouldn't squander it." I gave a small laugh at his face, seeing how I spun the words he used back ten years ago on him.

"Exactly. Take note, April. We've got some preparin' to do! Four-no, no. We're going to be needing more oxygen tanks now that the children are coming along." Rolling my eyes as he began to pace, I stooped his rambling with a quick hug. Scrooge froze, and stared at me. "Uh, what are you doin'?"

"Thank you," I mumbled into his coat. "Thanks for giving me this chance."

I wasn't sure if the man was used to physical contact like this. Shoulder touches and handshakes were usually all he did, but I felt a surge of triumph when slowly and very, very awkwardly, hugged me right back. "You're welcome, lass."

* * *

 **I… I have no clue how this got so huge. I think I got a little carried away with this chapter. Not complaining though. This was fun.**

 **Stay tuned for the next chapter!**

 **Angel**


	3. Race to Atlantis

**Disclaimer: The wonderful thing about writing for a really new show, and having no access to TV… I go on this crazy hunt for transcripts and decent clips on YouTube for information. Took a while, but here's part two of the first episode!**

 **Just like with the first chapter of this story, working in Donald's personality is rough. Webby and the triplets were easy as I could bounce off my Gravity Falls story for help. Honestly, Webby is like Mabel in so many ways. Let me know if I nailed his character and if I'm missing something!**

 **1234BlueLagoon: Thanks!**

 **StoriesUnleashed: Louie seems to be a bit of a flirt, shown in one of the shorts of the new show. Why not use that to my advantage?**

 **L. A Taiva: Last episode? There's been 9 released so far (10 if you count the first as two parts), and a lot more on the way. It's even been confirmed for a second season already. Due to the start of labs in robotics and comp sci, I expect chapters to be a little slow coming out. I guess that by the time I reach what's currently the last episode, more should already be out. Hiatuses might be a thing when finals and/or midterms come around, but there's no way I will discontinue this story. What do you mean by something different anyway?**

 **RainbowCelin: :D**

 **twilight-sweden: Seeing how I updated only a few hours before your comment, hehe, updates take time. Well, sometimes. All depends on how much time I have and how enthusiastic I am about a chapter.**

 **ultima-owner: Who doesn't love a money bin?**

 **WolfGirl01: Yeah, Louie fancies her a bit. With how much she hangs around Scrooge, she tends to pick up on a few of his personality traits. Taking control of a situation and Scottish speaking habits being one of them.**

 **KaseyKay17: I think, looking at this reboot, I see a lot of Gravity Falls in it. Guess that's what drew me to writing this as GFA is slowly winding to an end. It's a good focus for my mystery-loving writing self.**

"Speaking"

 _Thinking_

* * *

"Alright. Looks like we have everything all packed up." I sat on the steps go the front door, flipping through my checklist. Scrooge was out back with Launchpad and the kids, packing up all the gear into the limo. We were going to head down to the docks soon, but I wanted to make sure we had not forgotten anything. Never hurt to double check. "Or triple check," I muttered. An engine's rumbling drew my attention upwards, and I watched as the same green car from only a few hours pull into the manor's driveway. Parking right below me, Donald climbed out and headed up to the door. He cast me a curious look, and knocked on the door. "Uh, can I help you?"

"Are the boys around?" He asked. Biting my cheek and holding back a snicker from his voice, I nodded. "Is it possible for Scrooge to look after them over the weekend?" Getting to my feet, I shoved the notebook back into my jacket.

"I don't see why not. Your uncle actually planned a fun outing for them." Raising a brow, he crossed his arms and squinted his eyes suspiciously. _He, uh, suspects something, doesn't he?_

"What kinda outing?" Donald asked.

"Whatever you're thinking isn't happening. It's perfectly safe. Nothing 'dangerous' or 'life-threatening' or whatever you're coming up with." Grumbling at my sarcastic answer, I decided to try and defuse the situation. I mean, he was my boss' family. I should try to be hospitable. "How'd that interview go, anyway?"

"It, uh, could have gone better. With luck this job will turn things around… hopefully." Ouch. What had been going on with him and the triplets to make him so desperate for a job?

"I can relate," I said. "An unsure future isn't a fun thing, is it?" Blinking in surprise, he nodded in agreement. "You know, we never were properly introduced. I'm April. Last name… eh, not really important."

"Donald Duck," he announced, and we shook hands. I was an inch or two shorter than him, being the same height as Scrooge. I had grown a few inches since moving in years ago. He wasn't wearing the same business suit as he was this morning, I noticed. A black sailor blouse with white trim and gold buttons, and a sailor hat to top it off. _Interesting choice of attire._ "A sailor, huh?"

"Uh-huh," Donald replied eagerly. "My new boss wants me to pilot his sub for him."

"That's pretty cool," I admitted. Boat travel was a rough business, depending on what seas you went out on. A dangerous line of work, but rewarding. Feeling my phone buzz in my pocket, I brought it out. "Hello, you've reached McDuck's assistant. How may I help you?"

"Are we all ready to go, lass?" Scrooge's voice came from the speaker. "The boys are gettin' anxious-Louie, put that down! No, Webby, get away fro-!"

"We're ready. Just dealing with your nephew. He was asking if we could keep the boys over the weekend due to his new job." Scrooge mumbled over the phone, before he responded clearly.

"Perfect. Make sure he doesn't know about you-know-what." The phone clicked, signaling the end of our conversation. "Wow. Your boys are a handful." I'd go into detail, but I refused to mention the fact Louie flirted with me, and all the other events that occurred a few hours ago.

Donald laughed at that. "Hehehehe. You have no idea." We stood there in an awkward silence, before I came up with another question. May as well pass the time until the limo pulls up around front.

"I don't mean to pry or anything, but you guys-you and the boys, I mean… you're desperate that this job pays off, aren't you? Try and improve your lives?" Donald nodded, scratching the back of his neck.

"I do odd jobs whenever I can; tour guide, hotel handyman. I even spent three years serving in the Navy while an old friend of mine cared for them when I was away on tour. But it's like clockwork now. I love living on the houseboat, but…" he sighed. "I need this job. I dunno what'll happen if this doesn't pay off in the end." I was left speechless. We-were things really that rough for him, Huey, Dewey, and Louie? Did Scrooge even have a clue what was going on? _Of course not. If they haven't spoken in ten years, then he wouldn't have known at all._ Makes me wonder even more… was Scrooge aware he had more nephews before today even started?

A honking horn drew our attention back to the driveway, and we saw the limo pull up. "Well, here's my ride. It was nice meeting you, Donald." With a final wave, I skipped down the stairs and slid into the back with Scrooge and the kids. "Take it away, Launchpad!"

"Sure thing, April," he called back. We peeled away, leaving the manor and Donald in the dust. The boys were pressed against the seat with how fast we took off, and Webby giggled madly beside them. _Yeah, this is going to be an interesting weekend._

(Time Skip)

Gotta admit, despite his horrendous piloting and driving skills, Launchpad wasn't too terrible with the submarine. We haven't rammed into anything yet, and were making quick time through the ocean. The sun was already setting, and Scrooge had gone to the hatch for the last bit of fresh air before we dived. While the kids were checking out the scenery from below, I decided to see how he was doing.

"I run a multi-trillion dollar business," I heard Scrooge say above me. Peeking up the hatch at the foot of the ladder, I could make out the phone in his hand. Guess he was talking to Donald. Not surprising, seeing how suspicious he was when I told him his uncle had plans for the nephews. "I can handle a few juveniles for the weekend. You just focus on this new job of yours. Besides, we've got a pretty low-key day planned."

Dewey dashed past me, and scurried up the ladder. "Hoist the mast sail! Other boat words! To Atlantis! Dive! Dive!" He called down to Launchpad, as Scrooge tried to shout over him to not-too late.

"Launchpad, the hatch! Ah! Stop, the-!" As fast as he could, he dragged Dewey back into the sub, and closed the door. Unfortunately, not quick enough to stop half a foot of water from pouring in and soaking me and the floor.

"Woo hoo!" Dewey slid down the ladder, and ran over to the control console where Huey was. Louie and Webby were controlling the pump, draining the sub. Grumbling under my breath, I took my scarf off and wrung it out as Scrooge dumped the water out of his hat. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out the phone and tossed it to Louie.

"Talk to your uncle." I followed him up front, and stood beside him watching Launchpad pilot us through the dark sea. There wasn't much to see at this level. The spotlights didn't do much in our favor except for helping us avoid any rocks and reefs. "Launchpad, have you ever piloted a sub before?" Scrooge asked.

"I sunk a helicopter in a wave pool once. Same thing?" I slapped a hand to my face, groaning.

"I've done more with less," Scrooge sighed. Glad we were in the same boat here. "No matter, I'm **back!** Uncharted territory. Bold new discoveries!" I couldn't help but laugh from his excitement. This here, this was the Scrooge I remembered the most. Not the harsh, reclusive business duck, but the adventurous, thrill-seeking, and energetic duck that I first met down at the waterfront read about in old articles.

"Travel bingo!" Scrooge and me gasped at Huey's shout, not prepared for the loud noise. "I love road trips! I've got snacks…" he pulled out a blue book bag and took out a few fruits. "A playlist of traditional sea shanties… and matching family road-trip shirts!" After putting away the cassette player, he took out another copy of the red shirt he was wearing and threw it on Scrooge. A small image of the sub was stylized on front. Scrooge stared at the shirt over his coat, and pulled it off to hand to Launchpad.

"Ye-yeah. I appreciate your enthusiasm, but there's no time." He adjusted his coat's belt, while Huey looked over a series of notes.

"Uh, but according to the travel itinerary-"

"Boo!" Dewey popped up behind him from one of the seats, and tore up the notes. Climbing over to his brother, he shook his head. "Adventure isn't about planning, it's about doing!" Well, he's not entirely wrong. But he's not right either. You need a plan and action to do something grand like this. Running to the front, he grinned up at Scrooge. "So, what can I be in charge of? The buzz-saw arm?" He pressed a button on the dashboard, only for Scrooge to quickly hit it again.

"No!"

"Sonic cannons?"

"No!"

"Hyper-dense zero-point energy missiles to pierce the scaly hide of a kraken?" I laughed at that one. Scrooge blocked Dewey's hand, preventing him from hitting another button.

"None of those things are real things. This is your first expedition, so just stand back and watch an old pro… from a safe distance." A sly smirk appeared on his bill, and I wondered what he was thinking of.

"So what **is** the submarine equipped with?" Dewey asked. Scrooge led him back to one of the seats, pushed him down in it, and buckled him in with a seat belt.

"Seat belts. Hehehehe." Chuckling, he moved to the back and sat down in a chair, plotting out a course. Ignoring the conversation Huey and Dewey were getting into, I sat down next to Launchpad and fished out my notebook. Thank goodness this jacket was somewhat water-proof.

"Let's see here…" clicking my pen, I began to jot down a few notes. Behavioral patterns in the triplets that set them each apart, and how Scrooge apparently doesn't see Dewey as responsible enough to do something to help out. _That's going to bite him in the tail feathers later._ Dewey seemed like the kind of child to want to prove himself. Glancing back, I saw Scrooge exchange a look with the kids. Whatever just passed between them, I couldn't quite tell. In the end, Scrooge got up from his seat, and took the map he drew out and put it on the dashboard.

"Mr. McQuack, chart a course. Next stop, the lost city of Atlantis!" The children and Launchpad cheered, sharing his liveliness. "In about sixteen hours!" He checked his watch, adding to his statement. The kids' faces fell, and Huey pulled out his music player.

"Shanty time!" _Uh… how about no?_ Backing over to an empty seat behind the kids, I dropped down in it and curled into a ball on my side.

"I'm making this perfect clear, okay? If there's no good reason to wake me up: don't. I will personally strangle you if you try." Closing my eyes and nuzzling the fabric of the seat, I tried to fall asleep. The sea shanties were certainly driving my nerves after three of them, but I was able to tune them out to catch… I don't know how long I was asleep for. A couple hours, maybe. Sleepily, I opened an eye, and found Webby, Huey, and Louie fast asleep. Huey was cuddling the music player, drooling on it. Dewey, meanwhile, had gone up to pester Scrooge some more. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but Scrooge smacked his cane against the wall where the map was to prevent Dewey from touching it. Then he went and hit Launchpad with it to keep him awake.

Dewey, after a few minutes, came back to his feet, looking quite pleased with himself. "Shortcut achieved! He'll thank me later."

Yeah, so… a kraken apparently **does** exist, and can conduct electricity through its tentacles too. Then there was the vicious quartet of sea monsters with a charged trident aimed right at our window. And whatever that cloud giant thing was that created a waterspout that sent us flying about through giant waves.

"Ugh, you kids will be the death of me," Scrooge groaned. While Launchpad was still in his seat buckled in, the rest of us were knocked around and onto the floor, sprawled about. Getting to his feet, he moved back up front.

"Dewey! Dewey will be the death of you!" Dewey called back to him.

"Kid, I swear, you will not make it to teenage years if you keep this up," I muttered. "I'll make sure of that." Huey got up and went over to Scrooge, who now had to rewrite the map Dewey destroyed.

"Can we make a pit stop? I have to use the bathroom, but it's-um…" he opened the bathroom door, but quickly slammed it shut as one of the sea monsters fought its way through the toilet and tried to claw at him. "Ah! Occupied!?"

"For the love of-it's the middle of the ocean!" Scrooge got up, clearly exasperated. "There are no pit stops!"

"How 'bout that conspicuously unmarked tanker?" I got up off the ground with Louie and Webby, and went to check out the radar myself.

"That's a little weird," I remarked. "I suppose it could work though, but we should be careful. We don't know who's boat it is. Launchpad, bring us up to the surface. We better be quick about this." Taking my words, the pilot brought us up alongside the tanker, and the triplets and Scrooge headed to the ladder. Webby remained in her seat, not needing to head out like the others. "Hurry, Scrooge."

"We'll be right back," he sighed. The four climbed out the hatch, and I went to sit down beside Webby.

"So… any one of them catch your interest?" Webby snorted, and punched me in the arm playfully. "Hey, it was just a question!"

"Be serious, April!" She laughed. "They're friends, not bachelors!"

"Maybe now, but one day soon, your body will undergo a series of-oomph!" Webby shoved me off the seat and onto the floor. Glaring up at her from my position on my back, I rolled my eyes. "I'm not totally kidding, you know. Besides your grandmother, I'm the only other female in the mansion. Who do you think you're gonna get advice from? Launchpad? You're gonna need to come to me for help one day. Because, lets be honest, telling your granny would be… awkward."

"No kidding," Webby giggled. Extending her hand, she helped me back into my seat. "Oh! Here they come!" Scrooge walked past us, signaling Launchpad to dive again. The boys climbed into their seats, and Huey looked from Webby to me.

"What were you two talking about?" He asked. _Oh, Huey. Wouldn't you like to know?_

"Nothing!" I replied, grinning. "Nothing that concerns you guys. Just female things." They grimaced, making me and Webby laugh. "I'm gonna go check up on things with your uncle." Scrooge was staring out of the porthole, studying the currents we were traversing. "You know," I drew his attention to me, "something tells me this isn't just for the children. You miss this, don't you? The thrill of adventure? The mystery and danger?"

"Aye," Scrooge chuckled, smiling fondly at his reflection in the glass. "It's been years since I've done this. Though, I will admit, the company is… different than before." We glanced back at Webby, Huey, Dewey, and Louie; the four starting to doze off in their seats, huddled together. "They're not what I was expectin', mind you. But all the same, it's… nice to not be alone all the time."

"It is, isn't it?" Turning back to the window, I couldn't tell if he was still looking at his reflection, the outside… or me. "Your nephew, Donald, he, uh… he seems interesting." That definitely drew his attention to me. "We talked for a while until you showed up with the limo. I just-Scrooge, did you even keep in contact at **all** with him over the last decade? His financial problems? Did you even know you had more nephews?"

"I… aw, lass." Scrooge looked to the floor regretfully. "I've been a wee bit of a fool, haven't I?" I crossed my arms, nodding firmly. "I've been too stubborn to let go of what happened in the past, I refused to keep tabs on him. How was I to know that he was struggling with money? Or that De-that he had children to care for?" He asked, taking a breath to correct himself. He wasn't going to say Donald there, was he? Was this another relative I have yet to hear about? _A sibling of Donald's perhaps, seeing that the children are his nephews._

"Yeah, you've been a fool. But you're making an effort to change that, and that's what counts. Though, making this clear now, I will continue making this hard on you. The whole 'ignoring all family for ten years' thing is hard to get past." I patted his shoulder, and made one last comment. "Remember this though, Scrooge. This trip isn't just about you. True, it's about adventure and the search for the jewel, but you're trying to mend things with your family. Don't be pushing them away. Hehe. I'll be right here, ready when you need a good whack to keep reminding you of that."

"What would I be without my faithful assistant?" _Bored out of your mind?_ Scrooge and me smiled, and tuned back to the ocean. "The Drake Barrier Reef. Powerful currents combined with rocky terrain make it nearly impossible to navigate… but on that rare occasion when snow falls above the reef, the currents cool, allowing safe passage to-" we turned around, waiting for the children to respond, only for them to slowly wake up.

"Huh? What? Are we there yet?" They mumbled, rubbing their eyes.

"Well, I just about to-"

"Right side or left side?" Huey interrupted Scrooge, suddenly looking much more awake.

"If you'd just let me-"

"Look!" The kids ran past him, pressing against the porthole excitedly. "There that thing is! We found it!" Dewey cried. The spotlights shone down on a triangular shaped structure under us, making it shine in a light blue glow. Even Launchpad had turned to look below; the five oohing in amazement.

"Yes, good, Atlantis. Oooh! Aaah! Thanks for spoiling the moment," Scrooge muttered. Launchpad aimed us down to an opening, and Huey tilted his head to the side.

"The whole place is upside-down!" _What?_ Turning my head to mimic his, I saw he was right. The door we were entering-at least I think it was a door-should have been flipped around. This means this whole place, it's whole layout, is going to be even more difficult to navigate.

"Ah, well, that's a new one," Scrooge admitted. The sub rose up to break the surface of water inside, and he and Dewey went back to the hatch. It appeared I was right. The giant door that was on our left was reversed, so that meant we were on the ceiling. Taking out the keys to the sub, Launchpad headed out with the rest of us, and began to tie off the vehicle to a rock to keep it from drifting away. Louie and Webby gathered together to look at a phone, while I joined Launchpad and Huey in heading over to Dewey and Scrooge. The two were studying hieroglyphics on the wall beside the door, and Scrooge nodded in understanding. That's good. I couldn't make any sense of it.

"A-ha! Well, according to these marking, the Atlanteans were so eager to build an epic city of wonders and death traps, they didn't stop to figure out a proper support structure and the whole thing fell into the sea! You kids best stay by the sub while I scout ahead."

"Dewey ran in as soon as you said 'death traps'," Huey said immediately.

"Come on, Scrooge! We got this!"

"Boy! Ugh! What… mmrngh." Grumbling, Scrooge climbed over the door, and headed off after Dewey. Seeing that it wouldn't make sense to remain behind, and that one of the other kids might make a break for it, we tagged along behind him. Heading off down a path, Scrooge came to a halt in front of a door, and we stopped behind him. "Lad! I thought the traps would get you fur sure!" Dewey was sitting cross-legged on the floor, facing down the hall. Raising a hand and point a finger at the ceiling, we all looked up.

Buzz saws. There were… buzz saws on the ceiling-wait. No, if we're upside-down, then that's the floor up there. "Stupid upside-down temple," Dewey complained, getting to his feet. "Nothing cool about walking under buzz saws."

"From now, don't touch **anything** ," Scrooge said, putting emphasis on the last word. Walking past him, we heard several small thunks. Looking up, a small pebble, probably kicked by Dewey in frustration, flew up to hit a tile on the ceiling. Sliding away, it let loose a large pile of snakes to come crashing down on our heads. Screaming, we booked it out of the way, and left Launchpad in our dust. Clambering over a large rock, Scrooge cracked his spine with a groan. "Phew. Maybe Atlantis was an ambitious first outing."

"Maybe a little bit." Launchpad crawled over the rock, and fell flat on his face. "Huey, check on him, would you? I'm gonna go help Scrooge." Leaving Webby and Louie to the phone, which by now I believe had something to do with Mrs. Beakley, I climbed up the ledge where Scrooge was busy shoving a boulder out of the way. "So our pilot was mauled by snakes, and I think we're gonna have to go to the hospital."

"We'll worry about that later." We moved into the new area, and I gaped at the new trap. _You have got to be kidding me._

"Whoa!" Dewey ran up behind us, smiling widely. "Suspension bridge? Chasm? Glowing blue mystical blue lasers? Classic!" He went to talk onto the bridge, put Scrooge quickly pulled him back with the crook of his cane.

"Eurgh. Even a basic death trap still has the word 'death' in the title." He pointed the tip of his cane in the crossbeams, and a jet of flames flew up from the ground, nearly incinerating us if we were inches closer. "We'll find another route. It's not safe for amateur adventurers." Scrooge made his way back to the other room, and I was about to follow until Dewey decided to be an idiot.

"That sounds like a challenge!"

"I have to stress that is **not** a challenge," Scrooge said, turning back to him.

"… is exactly what you'd say to dissuade the weak of heart from accepting the challenge!" He whirled around to face the bridge, throwing a fist in the air. "Well, challenge accepted!"

"There is no challenge!" Scrooge and me yelled. Before we could do anything, the boy took off down the bridge, doing a silly dance and humming a song. Yet, for some reason, the lasers weren't working. "It's not working. Why isn't it working?" I mumbled quietly. Peering over the edge and ignoring Dewey, I saw almost pitch black in the chasm. Though, there was one thing I thought I could make out. A small flash of white and gold through all that darkness. I'm not sure if it was my eyes, but i-it couldn't have been Donald down there, could it?

"Nailed it!" Looking back up, I saw Dewey at the end of the trap.

"April, hold onto my shoulders." Snapping my head to Scrooge, I blinked in confusion. He wanted me to do what?

"Uh, okay?" Throwing my arms around his back and interlocking my fingers to secure my grip, I rested my head on his shoulder. "But I don't see how this is going to-AAHHH!" Scrooge jumped off the ledge we were standing on, and hooked his cane around it. Swinging himself forward, he sent us flying over Dewey and onto the ledge just above his head. The boy stared at us in shock, and then rolled his eyes.

"Sure, if you want to do it the easy way." He turned away from us, and I shakily let go of Scrooge. Oh, be still, my beating heart. I was not ready for that at all.

"Why wouldn't you want to do it the easy way? You've got to work smarter, lad, not harder," Scrooge explained.

"Ugh, 'lad'. I don't call you 'old man' or 'Scotty McTophat'," Dewey complained.

"Respect your elder. When you adventure with Scrooge McDuck-"

"But I'm not. You want me to adventure **behind** Scrooge McDuck, or wait by the sub!" He finally turned around, temper rising. "I might as well be back on the houseboat!"

"Because you have no idea what you're doing!" Scrooge yelled.

"So show me! Give me a chance instead of lumping us all together in the back seat while you drive!" Dewey begged.

"I'm not lumping you all together." Scrooge glanced to the left. He knew he was lying. He clearly couldn't distinguish the boys apart. To him, he saw them all as the same person.

Dewey narrowed his eyes intensely, seeing right through him. "Oh, really? Which triplet am I? And April, don't you dare help him." I snapped my beak shut, and stepped back from Scrooge. Yeah, this is going south very fast. Scrooge knew he was caught, looking from me to Dewey, wracking his brain for an answer.

"It's… Bluey?" _Oh, wrong move._ Dewey stormed past Scrooge, and the flames shot upwards and obliterated the bridge. On the far side, Launchpad was carried by Huey, Louie, and Webby, still loopy from the snake venom. "Eugh, fantastic. You see what I'm talking about?" He asked to Dewey, the boy pausing to look back. Turning to the others, he put a hand to his mouth. "You four find another way 'round! We're going to…"

"Push on, I'm guessing," I remarked. Dewey had started descending down the rocks beside us, not waiting for us to catch up to him.

"Apparently." I went after Dewey, and Scrooge carried the rear. Heading down into a tunnel, I managed to match my speed with Dewey, choosing to block out Scrooge's ramblings to himself. Just as I got down to where the boy stopped, I stared, stunned, at the room. Traps were displayed around the ceiling, but it was the massive pile of gold on the floor that caught my sight. Though, what really drew my interest was the red jewel in the middle of the room, pinched by a stone hand.

"Ha ha ha. There she is." A duck followed by a small group entered below us, and climbed to the top of the hand. From this height, I could make out the tam o'shanter hat, gray beard and sideburns, kilt, and black frock coat. "The jewel of Atlantis!" The duck cackled madly, and I grimaced when I realized who he was. Flintheart Glomgold. _Eugh._ The second richest duck in the world, and the most irritating drake I've come to know. I've run into him on more than a few occasions, and it bothered me with how much he was interested in my history with Scrooge. How I was the youngest worker he's ever had, and one of the closest to him to boot. The guy had tried to flatter me, to get me to spill any secrets about my employer… until I went and drop-kicked his sorry butt and got the lawyers involved. Never sure how he got off scot-free.

"Who's that?" Dewey asked, keeping his voice low.

"Flintheart Glomgold, the poor man's version of me. Which, to be fair, still makes him insanely rich," Scrooge explained.

"We have a rather… interesting past with the guy," I explained vaguely.

"Ah ha ha ha! Load up the sub." Flintheart jumped down to meet his crew, and Dewey gasped beside me.

"They've got Uncle Donald!?"

"What!?" Scrooge and me exclaimed, and spotted said duck himself being dragged in by two people. Dewey leaped over the edge, sliding down the pile of gold leading up to us. Scrooge, on the other hand, jumped up onto the ledge and dove into the coins. _Sneak attack. Got it._ I don't do gold diving. It's actually a lot harder than it looks; believe me, I've been in the money bin. But with a good running start…

"Let go of my uncle!" Dewey shouted, reaching the bottom. Flintheart turned around, the jewel tucked under his arm.

"No," he stated, glasses glinting evilly.

"I wasn't prepared for that," Dewey said, stepping back. Well, that's 'cause you ran in without a plan, dummy!

Thankfully, he distracted the duck long enough for Scrooge to burst out of the gold from behind him, hooking his cane around his ankle and knocking Flintheart to the ground and ripping the jewel from his hands. Holding the end of the cane to his face, mere inches from his eyes, Scrooge all but growled at him. "What are you doin' here, Flinty?"

"What are **you** doing here, Scrooge?" Donald asked, turning his words back on him. "I told you to keep the boys safe!"

"Ah, they're perfectly fine," Scrooge replied, not looking away from Flintheart.

"Oh, yeah? Where are the other two?" Donald was on his feet, arms crossed disapprovingly.

"Back safe in the room with the fire and the snakes."

"WHAT!?" _Scrooge, we really need to give you lessons on what is dangerous for children._ Flintheart smirked, looking from Donald to Scrooge.

"Ah, Scroogey. I see you know my newest employee." I'm sorry, what!?

"Your new job is with my sworn enemy?" Scrooge turned to Donald as Dewey ran up to him. I, keeping my plan ready for when this all goes downhill, kept to the edges of the room, surveying the scene below.

"I can't keep track of **all** your sworn enemies!" Donald shouted.

"Now, now, Donald has been a model employee… and an excellent prisoner. Ah ha."

"Yeah! Wait, what?" One of the wolves rested his hands on Donald's shoulders, while the tall female bird held a dagger to Donald's neck. The action was enough to let Scrooge release Flintheart from his cane and take the jewel, and the four backed up the gold pile to the exit with Donald at knife-point.

"Hirin' my own nephew in order to use him against me? Now that is good planning." Once they got high enough, I took a step back, and sprinted along the wall to where they were. Not sure if they even saw me coming, but I wouldn't deny the small part that enjoyed hearing Flintheart cry out when I rammed into him, and ripped Donald from the woman's hands.

"Taking this!" I threw Donald down to the others, and jumped back down the mound to keep a safe distance from him. Yeah, I want to stay as far away from th lady with all the swords, thank you. "Evening, Glomgold," I spat.

"April," he greeted, the same emotion in his tone. "Have fun workin' for the second richest duck in the world… for the next five minutes." Laughing, the woman threw a sword up at the ceiling, triggering a trap. The gem above our heads, this one a light blue, began to glow, and the door where Flintheart and his crew stood closed, locking us in. Water began to pour in rapidly from the holes in the walls, flooding the area and sweeping me off my feet until I landed beside Scrooge at the bottom.

"I'd like to point out that this trap was not my fault," Dewey said. The water was already waist-deep, and we looked around for an escape, a switch, anything. "We gotta stop the water!" Scrooge turned around to examine the hand, checking it over while Donald ran up to one of the holes in the wall. He tried to stuff the water itself back, and when that didn't work, he used a handful of gold coins and shoved them in. All that did was send the water and gold flying back into his face.

"Waaaugh!" I sputtered a laugh while running over to Dewey, hearing the duck's temper get the best of him. Turning around once I reached the boy, I saw Donald shaking a fist madly, hopping in the air until he somehow got himself stuck in the hole in the wall. "Oh no." Several leaks appeared around him, and with his rear still stuck, he covered them with his hands and feet. "Ugh. Ahhh. I knew it! I knew I couldn't trust you with the boys!"

"Not the time, Donald," Scrooge said, climbing to the top of the hand. The ground disappeared under my feet, and Dewey helped me up on top of the treasure chest he ran to.

"Crazy old man! All you care about is your next adventure! This is the Spear of Selene all over again!" _The Spear of Selene…?_ Darting to look from Donald to Scrooge, I saw his face twist angrily.

"I was **not** responsible for the Spear of Selene!"

"Stop!" Dewey shouted as the current drifted us around the hand. "Scrooge was trying to keep me out of trouble, but I was so caught up in-why is there a lamp on the floor?"

"What?" Donald asked, confused. Looking up, we stared at the gem in the ceiling.

"Atlantis is upside-down," I murmured. "Why on earth would you have a lamp on the floor, when it should be down here..."

"… surrounded by all this treasure," Dewey picked up.

"Good, you two," Scrooge pressured. "Keep goin'."

"But why would you surround that thing with treasure unless… that's the real jewel of Atlantis!" Scrooge, me, and Dewey all ended together, Scrooge dove into the water, surfacing and holding onto the chest. "That thing lit up when the trap was sprung-I bet my bottom dollar it's the power source that runs the city!" Kicking, he guided us over to where Donald was.

"Uncle Donald, you gotta let the room flood so I can grab the jewel," Dewey told him.

Donald stared at him in shock, probably thinking his nephew had lost his mind. "That's crazy! I'm supposed to, what, let go? Trust you?"

"Well, yeah, that's kind of all you can do." Dewey put a hand to his chin in thought. "This is a surprisingly insightful death trap!" The water level had now reached Donald's neck, and he brought himself to look up at Dewey. With a smile, it was all the duck needed to take a breath and dive down. From below, we watched him release his feet and hands, and push off from the wall, releasing the final flow of water we needed. Bobbing away from him, Donald resurfaced and quickly swam over to us.

"Dewey, get ready to dive off of this chest," I ordered. This is going to be cold, isn't it? Inhaling, I threw myself off and into the water. Bursting back up, I shook my head, shivering. "Good lord, this is freezing! Cold! Cold! Cold!" Floating under Dewey, we watched him leap up to grab the jewel, knocking the chest away. Scrooge and Donald joined me in grabbing hold of it as the water was just feet away from reaching the top, and we began to pull at the gem. _Breathe!_ Inhaling the last shred of air as my head went under, I watched with blurred vision as the jewel finally came loose, triggering the lamp at the bottom to act as a drain. Whirling around the room as the water was sucked out, I landed flat on my back beside Donald at the bottom. Dewey was clinging to the jewel, while Scrooge was on his face. "I… seriously regret… life decisions. Ugh, I am losing so many years off my life with this trip."

"Hey! We're gonna be okay!" Donald cheered, seeing the door reopen, letting us out. Before anything else could happen, we ran up the pile of gold and back the way we came. This time, we took Donald's path. Entering a room, we found the rest of the group fighting Flintheart's henchmen, and I grinned at the trouble Webby was causing for the bird.

"That's my girl," I laughed.

"Oh, yeah, those guys," Donald commented. Huey and Dewey ran past them, tripping a wolf and trapping him inside one of Huey's family road-trip shirts. "Huey and Louie," he ran up to the boys, hugging them tightly, "are doing okay!"

"Yah!" Webby flipped the last wolf and the bird on top of the other downed henchman, and jumped back beside Dewey.

"Wait! Where's Glomgold?" Scrooge asked, looking around.

"Hey, team. Wanted to thank you." The Scottish voice flowed through a walkie-talkie in one of the henchmen's hands. "For keeping Scrooge's kin busy while I escape with the jewel and blow up Atlantis with my most hated rival inside."

"But I thought employees were greatest treasure of all!" The wolf with glasses said, looking hurt by his words.

"Don't be ridiculous! Treasure is the greatest treasure of all-that's why it's called treasure! Glomgold out!" The crackling of static cut out, and I immediately sprinted past Scrooge to the exit.

"Time to go!" I hollered over my shoulder. Retracing my steps wasn't as hard as I'd thought it'd be, using the easier path Donald led us to. Making it out to the sub first, I stumbled against the wall as I torpedo hit the outside. Rocks began falling around the room, and I threw myself into the hatch. Launchpad followed next, running to the driver's seat and started up the sub. The kids and Scrooge came in next, and Webby threw the rope holding us to the makeshift dock into the corner. "Are we all-?"

Donald came down the hatch, followed by Flintheart's crew; the glasses wearing wolf was being supported by the one in the red shirt. "Go!" Donald shouted, and Launchpad gunned us back through the tunnel we came in through. Swerving to avoid the rocks falling around we, we managed to get outside of the city's limits in time as the structure collapsed behind us.

With how fast Launchpad hit the gas, it knocked everyone into a pile behind him. "That was some quick thinking," Scrooge said, smiling at Dewey from the bottom of the pile. The two were holding the jewel, and Scrooge wrapped an arm around the boy. "You just may be an adventurer yet… Dewey."

"Okay, I love family bonding and all, but I'm stuck underneath everyone, and I'd love to be able to breathe properly again." I was stuck at the very bottom of the pile, with Huey's elbow pressed against my throat and Louie's leg against my stomach. "Like, anytime now." That was everyone's cue to readjust themselves, and I gasped once my lungs were corrected. "Thank you."

(Time Skip)

It wasn't too rough of a ride back. With the medical supplies I so wisely packed, we went about treating the bruises and sprains given over the course of the trip. Besides my ragged breathing from the water that filled my lungs earlier, I was more or less agitated. It didn't have anything to do with Scrooge this time. It was all Donald.

He should have known from the start that Flintheart Glomgold was bad news. Sure, I understand being desperate for money, but there should have been alarm bells way before he even boarded that tanker.

Yes, he told Scrooge he found out about the boys and him because it was Flintheart's boat they boarded. It also turned out he was the one to prevent Dewey from getting roasted in the laser trap. So here I was, walking over to Donald who was watching the boys chat with Webby on the other side of the sub. "H-hey." I sighed, seeing he was ignoring me. Sitting down beside him, I rubbed the back of my neck. "Listen, Donald. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you about this earlier back on dry land; you know, at the manor. It's just that the kids were so excited for this idea, and I knew that Scrooge would try his hardest to keep them protected, and I… I-aw, forget it. This is stupid." I went to walk away, only for a hand to grab my wrist and pull me back.

"It's been ages since I've seen Scrooge. I didn't want my family being roped into one of his adventures again." _Again…?_ "But… it's nice to see them having fun with him and Webby here." The four laughed as Dewey retold the story of what happened after they were split up. Smiling at the pleasant sight, Donald continued. "I knew you were trying your best. And… thanks for that."

"You're welcome, Donald. Whether you appreciate him or not, Scrooge is trying to fix things. The guy's definitely a little on the excitable side, but he wants to bond with the children. Besides Mrs. Beakley, I know him the best out of all of his other employees. He wants to fix things, he really does. Just… in his own crazy old-man way." I felt a whack against the back of my head, earning a small yelp. "Ow!" We turned around, seeing Scrooge give me an unimpressed look. Donald chuckled, as I put a hand where he hit me. "Oh… I, uh, y-you know I mean well."

"Sure, lass," he replied sarcastically with a sly grin. "We're 'bout to resurface. Shall we surprise ol' Glomgold?" Grinning, I nodded furiously.

"Uh, duh!" Chasing back to the hatch, I felt the sub begin to ascend. Once I shred of sunlight was noticeable from the window, I opened the door and climbed out. Scrooge followed out behind me, holding the gem beside him. "Hey, Scrooge? I'm proud of you. Sure, there was some arguments with Donald and Dewey, but this was good for a first try at rebuilding that bond. Just don't keep belittling the kids, okay?"

"I'll try, April. Oh. Here we are." The tanker was parted on the wharf with Flintheart standing in front of a podium on a stage, the press already surrounding him. We could hear him warming up the crowd, and just as he was about to announce what the red gem was, Scrooge cut him off. "The jewel of Atlantis!" Together, we stood proudly at the top of the sub, each with a hand on the gem propped up between us. The item didn't weigh much, but it stood up to our shoulders in height.

"What!?" Hopping down off the sub, we landed with smug pride at the feet of the reporters, smiling as the cameras were aimed in our direction. The news shouted questions, and Scrooge announced a basic answer to satisfy their inquiries.

"An efficient, clean source of energy that could power Duckburg for fifty years, courtesy of your friends at McDuck Water and Electric." A tall duck with platinum blonde hair raised her hand, holding a mic at for a response.

"Ooh, Mr. McDuck, how do you respond to claims by other Scottish billionaires that they have the real jewel?" Scrooge and me smirked, casting a look over at Flintheart.

"That bangle?" I asked, giggling. "It's pretty, yeah, but that thing is obvious cursed. Like, really cursed."

"No, it's not!" Flintheart shouted, hopping over to the edge of the stage with the jewel above his head. A loud roar came from behind him, sending the bagpipers and reporters running. Standing still by the sub, we watched a tentacle rise up out of the ocean, swiping the stage to splinters and nabbing Flintheart before he could run. Ducking as it swept over our heads, we laid the jewel down to walk to the edge of the dock. Poor, Flintheart was carried out to sea, jewel in hand and trapped in the beast's slimy grip. Huey and Dewey stood a few feet behind us with Donald, watching until the man was out of sight.

"Think we ought to do something about that?" I asked. Scrooge chuckled, shaking his head.

"He'll be fine," he replied. The two of us smiled, before hearing Donald walk up to us. _Oh no._ "Now, Donald, don't-"

"Stop," he cut him off. "I admit, I'm a little overprotective." He pinched his fingers together, going along with his point.

"A little?" I wasn't sure which triplet said it, but the three moved over to watch us.

"No matter what I do, these boys will get into trouble, so maybe…" Donald scratched the back of his head. "You can teach them how to get **out** of trouble." Is he going where I think he was going with this?

"Uncle Donald?" Huey asked, hope in his voice.

"It might be okay if the boys saw you every once in a while. Hehehe." He went over to hug the three, and they whooped in excitement, asking if he really meant it. "Sometimes, like birthdays, or federal holidays. Nothing too-AAH!" A loud boom shook the dock, and we whirled around to find a boat several yards away on fire.

"That, uh… that was the houseboat, wasn't it?" I asked quietly. As a whole, we turned around to look at the kids, and found Huey and Louie glaring at Dewey. "Dewey…?"

"Ooh! I may have left the engine running on the houseboat," he said nervously. That was there house. The one thing that they had left. What do they do n-? _Hmmm._ I froze, an idea sparking in my head. I wasn't sure if Scrooge would go along with it, but it didn't hurt to try. I watched the boys, flickering my eyes from them, to Donald, and lastly to Scrooge, and I elbowed the older duck. _Here goes._

"You know, we do have a dozen or so bedrooms in the mansion that aren't being used." Gaining their attention, I gave a knowing look to Scrooge, who secretly smiled back at me. Looking to Donald with a nod, we all turned to the boys. All it took was Donald giving a small laugh to set them off, cheering loudly and dragging Webby into the fray. Dewey was break-dancing, laughing his head off. Scrooge patted Donald on the shoulder, and I pulled out my phone. Dialing in a number, I held it up to my ear. "Let's see-hello? Duckburg Fire Department? It's April… what? N-no. It's not Launchpad again… yeah, I know. It's amazing. Listen, can you get down here to the docks? I need you to put out a houseboat for me… okay. Thanks." Clicking it shut, I grinned at Donald. "Hope that helps. It might not be perfectly habitable, but there should be enough to salvage once they douse the flames."

Donald chuckled. "Aw, thanks, April."

I grinned back, snapping my phone shut. "No problem, Don." The mallard straightened up at the nickname, and I laughed at his reaction. "No use trying to stop me. That nickname's stuck on you now, so get used to it."

(Time Skip)

I leaned against the manor's brick outside, watching Launchpad drop Donald's houseboat into the pool. Scrooge never used it that much, so when Donald begged him to let him bring it with, he let him. Of course, the top was scorched and blackened, and I wasn't entirely sure how the inside looked. But it floated, so that was a good thing. To my amusement, it had also drenched the poor duck when it landed in the water. "Did I do it good?" Launchpad asked, making me laugh. Trekking around the outside of the house, I walked into the opened garage, still with a pleased smile on my face. Huey, Louie, and Scrooge were sword fighting with canes, brooms, and a plunger. Webby had gotten hold of the possessed sword, and was floating after them. Dewey was sitting in the back, tidying up a box of random artifacts.

"Hey, Dewey." He looked up at me, and I ruffled the feathers on his head. "That the last of it?"

"Yep. We're all done." I followed behind him as he carried the box to the rest of the stacks, and he wiped at his forehead. "Phew." Walking back to me, he stopped to look at an old painting of Scrooge fighting the ghost pirate, and I noticed Donald was swinging from a rope in the corner. Dewey stared at it, before reaching up to push up the torn piece of cloth in the upper left corner. When he did, he leaned back, shocked. "Mom?"

A duck in a pilot outfit swung her sword at another pirate atop the mast, highlighted by the setting sun behind her. _Mom. This was… Donald's sister?_ "Sweet corn," I murmured. "There's some huge mystery going on right under our bills with this family that I wasn't even aware of." _And… and I'm going to to find out what._

* * *

 **And once again, I have gone overboard with a chapter. It might return to a normal sized chapter flow once the story gets out of the introduction phase. Who knows?**

 **Next chapter might be a bit slow coming out. I have two labs this week due Friday, and one of them I had trouble with due to downloading problems.**

 **Until next time, which hopefully won't be too long!**

 **Angel**


	4. Beak the Rules

**Disclaimer: I knew this wouldn't be as huge as the second and third chapters. Those were all about setting up the story, and with it being a one-hour episode, I may have gone overboard. Still, the length of this chapter, considering the episode, makes me happy.**

 **The title's a pun… my love of Undertale has forced me to make them wherever I go. Send help and muffins.**

 **RainbowCelin: And… there they go.**

 **Jarjaxle: April's a brown feathered duck. Where did you think an owl?**

 **twilight-sweden: Thanks!**

 **WolfGirl01: Who knows? All you can do I guess if keep on reading to find out.**

 **ultima-owner: All I'm guessing is that it involves the moon. Space seemed important in the Ducktales universe.**

"Speaking"

 _Thinking_

* * *

"Coffee. I swear, why is it always coffee?" I flipped through my notepad, and snapped it shut with a groan. "Scrooge, honestly, it's unhealthy to drink this much caffeine." _Meh, not like I don't drink as much as he does._ I enjoy a beverage every now and then.

The first morning of our newest residents, and I had yet to stumble across the boys, Donald… or Webby. I should have been concerned about that last one, but I let it go. The girl was more than likely playing with the others in her room. Mrs. Beakley was making probably making getting his morning drink ready. "Ah, just a normal day in the McDuck Manor." Heading down the hallway where his bedroom was on, I stiffed a giggle when I saw the housekeeper, hair askew and darts stuck to her face, barge in on him. _Okay, this I gotta hear._ Listening to the children's screams coming closer, I quickly slipped in behind her and closed the door.

"Beakley?" Scrooge, donned in a housecoat, turned from his window to look at her. The darts fell off her face as she walked in, and I gave a pleasant wave from my stop.

"Morning, Scrooge." Mrs. Beakley sat the tray down on the window seat, and began to pour him a cup of tea.

"I feel I should prepare you for what's out there," she warned. Scrooge smiled, rolling his eyes.

"How bad can it be? Lid left off the peanut butter. Errant roller skate left on the stairway." Taking the tray again, we headed to the door so Scrooge could get a glimpse for himself.

"Uh, Scrooge, I think Webby showed the boys her collection of-" too late. "Incoming!" Ducking down, I avoided the onslaught of darts firing down the hall. Scrooge yanked the tray out of Mrs. Beakley's hands, using it as a shield while she quickly caught the cup, saucer, and kettle before they crashed to the floor. "An elaborate series of cutthroat war games."

"Should have seen this coming," I muttered, getting back up off the carpet. Huey came running by, watching over his shoulder as Dewey sprinted after him.

"Take that!" He stopped right in front of us, firing at Huey's back.

"Dewey, don't yell at your target before you fire." Scrooge tossed the tray to the side and took the gun from him. Staring down the sight, he mimicked the correct position. "You lose the element of surprise." Tossing it back to him, Scrooge headed off down the hall where they came from. Dewey's eyes widened, and he ran past after Huey as Louie brought up the rear. Firing a barrage of darts, he managed to make a dozen stick to the wall, and almost knock over a vase. Thankfully, I managed to catch it before it hit the ground.

"Good hands, April!" Louie shouted, giving me another sly wink as he went by. _Yeah, I need to talk to his uncle about that._ The sooner the better.

"When I said you should spend more time with your family, I did not mean move them in," Mrs. Beakley said to Scrooge. I doubted the duck even heard her, seeming to listen to the game going on around us. Carefully putting the vase back on the table, we followed after him, just as Webby declared from somewhere behind us about the foyer being a tomb.

"Ow, my tailbone!" Huey shouted, making Scrooge laugh.

"Sir, this is out of control," Mrs. Beakley explained, stretching her arms to further her point once we caught up.

"Kids will be kids." He took the doorknob in his hand, ready to open it. "For everyone's happiness, we've all got to make sacrifices." He opened the bathroom door, and I frowned as a hand immediately went across my eyes.

"Uh, guys? What's going on?"

"Um, ocupado." _Donald? Is he-? What the heck is he doing in the ba-no. N-no. I don't wanna know._ Bad mind. No weird thoughts this early in the morning.

"House meeting. Now," Scrooge growled. The door slammed shut, and I tapped the hand over my face.

"Uh, not sure who this is, but can I please have my sight back?" Mrs. Beakley lowered her hand, and I smiled at her thankfully. "Thanks. Well, as much as that was enjoyable, I'll go gather up the kids and get them in the dining room." I could have gone all my life without something like that ever happening. Backtracking to where I last heard the kids, I stuck my head around the corner, finding them gathered around a down Huey in the foyer-wait. I mean, the tomb. "Alright, dorks and dorkette, head to the dining room. Your uncle wants a word with you."

"What did we do?" Dewey asked, helping Huey to his feet. The boy was rubbing his backside, wincing.

"It's more like what Donald did. Webby, you're only coming because your grandmother is helping out. Now, come on."

Leading them all into the room, I split off to stand by Scrooge and Mrs. Beakley while they all sat at the far end of the table with Donald. Who thank goodness, was wearing clothes. _I-oh man. It's going to take forever to get that incident out of my mind._ Scrooge had also changed into his normal attire as well. A chalkboard under a sheet was set up between him and Mrs. Beakley, and I curiously wondered what sort of guidelines they came up with. The group was chattering, and with a quick whack at the board with his cane, Scrooge got them all to quiet down. "All right. Time for some house rules." He yanked the sheet off, revealing only two rules written on the board. "Rule one: my space is my space. My study, my sleeping quarters. My washroom." Scrooge stressed the last part, and I could see Donald roll his eyes. _Okay, I'm agreeing on that rule._ I'm an exception, at least in terms of the study and quarters. Definitely not the washroom. I can mostly go everywhere within reason, only due to the fact I need to be on constant call if he needs me. "Rule two: defer to Mrs. Beakley for all subsequent rules." _Uh, what?_ "I'm please to have you here, as long as it in no way inconveniences me. Good day." I opened my mouth, only for him to exit the room as fast as this weird meeting started.

"I-he just-ugh! He's impossible sometimes, honestly," I muttered, crossing my arms and glaring disapprovingly at the door.

"This may be Mr. McDuck's mansion, but it's my house. So," Mrs. Beakley flipped the board, and I jumped back in alarm. That's… a lot of rules. _Why would we need a diagram?_ "Exhaustive. Comprehensive." A chair screeched along the floor, and we looked up to see Donald walking away from his seat. "Where are you going?"

Donald held up-okay, I really hope it wasn't underwear. The guy doesn't even wear pants. N... neither did Scrooge, now that I think about. "I got unmentionables to wash."

"Rule 58: if you need something, ask for permission first." Donald flipped the cloth of his shoulder, and smirked back at his nephews.

"Did you hear that, boys? Ask permission," he mocked.

"Rule 23: no one is above the rules, Donald." Wow, she even went and underlined it. She thought of everything. "If you had simply asked for assistance, we could've avoided what I'm referring to as the 'undergarment incident'." The kids laughed behind him, and I tried to cover a laugh as a ragged cough.

"I can take care of myself," Donald retorted. Mrs. Beakley abandoned the board, walking over to him.

"That is not your decision to make. You live here, you answer to me," she ordered.

"I answer to no one!" He screeched. Standing as tall as he could, he and Mrs. Beakley glared angrily at each other.

"Wait, are they gonna kiss?" Sputtering, I held my sides in laughter at Louie's question. The kids made disgusted sounds, and their guardians turned to look at them.

"Outside. Now." Pointing at the door, the four quickly scrambled out of their chairs and dashed out. Once Webby closed the door behind her, I glanced at the two scowling ducks. _I'm going to have to try and defuse the situation, aren't I?_

"Donald, Beakley does have a point. I really don't want a repeat of this morning." If I didn't have feathers to mask my red face, it'd be too soon. "She's been here the longest, and a lot of what she says makes sense." Mrs. Beakley gave him a smug smile, seeing that I was in agreement.

"You don't live under her roof either," he pointed out, frowning at who I was siding with.

"Well… neither do you. What do you call that boat out in the pool?" Retorting, I mentally applauded myself. "As much as this delightful banter amuses me, I have errands to run. See you in a few hours. Two, three tops." Turning, I marched out of the room and closed the door as fast as I could. Good thing about the coffee mission. The place Scrooge liked me to purchase the grounds was a small but popular shop downtown. He ended choosing that place over his old brand due to how much I raved about it when I was younger.

Now, due to its location, I couldn't easily walk to it. The mansion was a fair distance away from the hustle and bustle of the city, so walking was out of the choice of options. I didn't want to be gone all day. Which meant... "hehehe." I had to head out to the garage and take my ride. _Yes!_ "Hello, sweetheart. Let's go for a run, shall we?" Throwing on my helmet and slinging a leg over the seat, I revved the engine. _Ah, listen to that purr._ Hitting the garage button on my key chain, I gave one last rev before zooming out of the room and off the property.

Driving a motorcycle certainly gets you more than a few odd looks in Duckburg. And this is even more so when said the driver works for Scrooge McDuck. Funny thing was, I never bought the bike. The black, sleek machine was one of the few things I got in the will. My parents had left ownership of the house, which… didn't help me much there. But there was money that came my way, and other things like jewelry, mom's car, and dad's bike. The car, a gray, two seater, was used for business. When I had to look more professional. The motocycle was mostly for fun, but I did use it for when I wanted to get to destinations a lot faster. An example being the coffee runs. I had to buy a helmet on my own, and I made sure it matched my beanie in color.

I was fine with standing out. I was respected, and a worthy enemy. Just ask Flintheart Glomgold! _Here we are,_ I thought, looking ahead to the left. Pulling into a free spot along the curb, I turned off the bike and pulled the helmet off. Shaking my feathers free, I tucked the headgear under my arm and headed into the shop. "Morning, Sky! Usual, please-oh! And one iced coffee, if you don't mind." Never really had much for breakfast today. Everyone was up and at it before Scrooge, which… was odd. Guess that Atlantis trip really tired him out.

An ash gray bird poked her head over at me from within the store room in the back, and grinned. "Right on it, kid! Be right there!" The normal crowd was here, seeing that I recognized quite a few faces. The shop was a family business, run by the Featherstones. Sky was a few years my senior, and recently became the head of the store once she was of age. Where I was still in grade 10 when I became Scrooge's assistant, she had just graduated my school. Not sure how we became… friends. We never really hung out in class, but with all of the times I came here, we ended up bonding over my weird tales of working for Scrooge.

Leaning against the counter, and waving at one of her aunts as she was dealing with a customer beside me, Sky came dashing back with two bags of the grounds and my drink. Her long head fathers were expertly done in a braid, draped over her shoulder, and her eyes sparkled in merriment. "Thanks, Sky. You wouldn't believe the day I've been having." Tapping my card against the pad, I quickly took a long sip from the cold beverage.

"I can tell. You seem more overworked than normal." She chuckled, and I playfully stuck my tongue out. "What is it? Beagle Boys? Flintheart? No, no, I got it. Is it… the boss doesn't want to spill family secrets?" I blinked. "I'm right?"

 _All I did was blink. How did she take that as a sign she was right?_ "Pretty close. His estranged nephew and his sister's kids moved into the mansion. They're triplets, Sky. All boys. Webby is going nuts with this." Sky went to speak, but snapped her beak shut.

"Wait, his nephew? You mean-?"

"The same guy Webby raved about in her stories about the McDuck clan. I left the mansion after Beakley and him got into an argument about rules and proper methods of washing clothes." The woman made a face, and I laughed. "Yeah, you weren't there. It was-eugh. I wish I could erase that from my memory." My phone buzzed in my jacket, and I nodded absentmindedly. _There goes the alarm._ "Well, I've killed enough time here. Best to get back to work." Downing my drink and ignoring the freezing in my throat, I headed for the door. The bell jingled overhead, and I waved behind me. "See you, Sky."

"Bye, girl! Have fun, and try not to lose your mind!" _Yeah, too late for that._ Tossing the bags into the small trunk on the back, I got back onto the bike. _And away we go!_ Coffee trips were a weekly thing for me. Whether I needed more grounds for the drinks, or I went there on my breaks and days off. The fact I did this on a regular basis-sometimes against my will-led to me smelling like the shop itself. No one has yet to notice; and if they have, they didn't let me know.

Pulling through the gate out front, I brought the bike back around to the garage. "See ya, precious." I patted the warm leather seat, hooking the helmet onto the handlebars. I moved to the back to grab the beans, and sighed. "Time to go check on the rage and the bemused." Now where would Donald and/or Mrs. Beakley be? "Hmmm… oh! Scrooge!" The duck was just ahead of me in the hall, back in his robe with a towel in hand. "Have you seen Beakley anywhere? I wanted to talk to her." He let me catch up to him, and we started off again.

"I believe she's watching Donald make a fool of himself. Doubt he needs any help in fulfillin' that." Restraining a comeback, I spotted the older woman at the bottom of the first second flight of stairs, looking out the window with a cup of tea.

"Perhaps we could put your nephew up in a hotel. In New Zealand."

"No time. Guest bath's-a-callin'. Beakley problem." He went up the stairs on the other side, and she groaned. Chuckling, I glanced out the window.

"How… why is the water on fire?"

"Generators." Ah. So, the guy was trying to prove a point here.

"I'll get the fire extinguisher." I passed the bags over to her. "Can you please put these away? Thanks." Not waiting for a reply, I headed off to the entrance to the courtyard where the pool was. Stopping to grab the red canister from its place on the wall-Scrooge kept them all over the manor for such emergencies-I opened the door and waltzed to the boardwalk leading to the houseboat. "Here!" I threw it up to Donald, who quickly caught it and began dousing the fires. I made my way on board, the wooden beam creaking under me, and I raised a brow. "You aren't making this easy on you or Beakley, are you?"

"I'm not admitting defeat!" He shouted back, putting out a small blaze. "I can perfectly take care of myself!"

"Hey, not saying you can't, Don. It's just that I'd rather not see the boys uncle get roasted alive in this petty feud." The last of the fire out, he sat the extinguisher down and turned to me.

"It's not petty," he argued. _Oh, really? You're sounding like a child right now that isn't getting his way._ "And why are ya doing that?"

"Wha-oh. You mean the nickname?" He nodded. "Because I can. Plus, it's fun to ruffle your feathers." I laughed at his annoyed glare, before a loud thump hit the deck behind him. "Huh?" Looking behind him, we saw a brick with a paper tied to it. "What's that?" Donald picked it up and broke off the paper, reading it over while mumbling some of the words to himself. Suddenly, he gave a startled quack, and grabbed my hand. "Whoa! Hey! Don-ah!" The drake dragged me back through the door I came from, and we rushed down the hall before skidding to a stop. "Donald, what is-?"

"Scrooge, the kids!" Donald banged on the guest bathroom door. "The Beagle Boys!"

"The what!?" Not those guys again! I hated it when those dogs tried breaking into the mansion to go after Scrooge's fortune-wait. "Donald, Webby's with them! We gotta tell Beakley!"

"Well, where is she!?" Donald yelled back.

"Th-the kitchen!" The two of us dashed through the maze of halls before skidding into the room. Mrs. Beakley was cutting some cucumbers, and looked up as she saw us come in.

"Mrs. B., a brick, a note!" Donald waved the paper around, too panicked to talk straight.

"Look who's finally coming to ask for my-"

"HELP!" Donald screamed the word, and shoved the paper into her hands. Her eyes narrowed, and I prayed that the Beagle Boys knew what was coming their way for taking Webby. An angry Beakley is not something to be taken lightly.

"What is a Funso?" She looked to us for an explanation, but shook her head. "Donald, go get your car ready. April, dear, get your bike."

"Yes, ma'am." I split off from Donald, and headed back to the garage as fast as my webbed feet could carry me. Throwing myself onto the motorcycle, I jammed the helmet over my beanie and face, and put the keys back in. "Alright, girl. Let's see how fast you're feeling."

Who knew popping a wheelie while driving off to beat up a family criminal organization felt so great? Following behind the station wagon, we headed down towards the pier. I knew a little about Funso's. It was a kid's restaurant with games, pizza, and a giant play structure. It made perfect sense the kids would be there. _I swear, if Ma Beagle lays one finger on her head, I'm gonna tear her limb from bloody limb._ Wow, I am bloodthirsty when I'm ticked.

The car came to a halt at the end of the dock where the building was, and Mrs. Beakley and Donald ran out. Two of the Beagle Boys, one large and beefy, the other one scrawny and slightly shorter, slowly marched up to them. Okay, let's think about this carefully. I have no weapons, but that never stopped me before. What's my course of acti-what the heck!?

Donald's white feathers were red with rage. Like, literally, his entire head had turned beet red. The moment the color faded, he gave a loud cry, jumping up and down and waving his fist in the air like he had done when we were in Atlantis. "Waaaugh! Give me back my boys!" He launched himself at the larger man, punching and pulling at his face. Abandoning my bike, I walked over to Mrs. Beakley, who watched with an amused face. The duck, with speed I didn't even know he possessed, was running rampant over him and then jumping to the other. The scrawny Beagle Boy fell to the dock, and I grinned at how much trouble Donald was causing them.

"I guess he can take care of himself." Mrs. Beakley cracked her knuckles, and with a battle cry charged forward and did a roundhouse kick on the larger man. Falling to the ground, he drew a knee to his chest in pain. As the other criminal got to his feet, he was immediately faced with a 540 reverse kick in his chest, knocking him across the dock where his head hit the guardrail.

"One down, one to go. My turn." Once Donald was out of the path, I tackled the larger man as he tried to stand back up, and rammed a fist into the side of his head. The force flew his head back against the ground with a loud crack, and he laid there unconscious. "Man, that felt good." Mrs. Beakley and Donald had already started running to the front door, and I jumped off the Beagle Boy and followed behind them. Throwing open the doors, we were ready for whatever Ma Beagle had ready. We were definitely not ready to see the crime boss and one of her sons in traps dangling over the ball bit, with the four children smiling at us.

"Boys!" Donald walked over to them, squeezing the life out them. Mrs. Beakley and me walked over to Webby to observe her handiwork, smiling.

"A slip stitch. Good choice, dear." She patted Webby's head, making her smile wider.

"Thanks, granny." I giggled, and pulled out my phone.

"I'll go alert the police. But first." Aiming it and making sure the lighting was alright, Webby laughed as I took a picture of Ma Beagle. The crime boss struggled harder against the net she was stuck in, making me grin harder. "Oh, Scrooge is gonna love this."

(Time Skip)

"Now flip the circuit on the boat's panel and you'll have power." Mrs. Beakley closed the circuit panel on the side of the mansion, and turned to Donald and me. I didn't have to be out here to see this, but I figured it wouldn't hurt. In case they decided to go against each other again.

"Thanks, Mrs. B.," Donald said sheepishly. "Hey, how does a housekeeper know so much about electricity and taekwondo?"

"Oh, simple. I'm a spy." Mrs. Beakly laughed as if it was the greatest joke she ever told, and I giggled alongside her. Donald laughed too, but he seemed more confused, wondering if we were being serious. _Hehehe. As if he'll ever get a straight answer from either of us._ Mrs. Beakley headed back inside, and I grinned at Donald.

"You're never gonna get a good answer to that. About her being a spy." Rolling his eyes, he began to head back to the houseboat. "Hmmm." Not seeing myself as properly dismissed, I followed him up the ramp and inside. Things were… burnt, but it could have been worse. Different colored walls varying from beige to a green and orange striped. The floors were made of wood, and there was a small hall branching off to the side. _Probably where their bedrooms are._ Cramped, definitely, but it was cozy. Not too horrible, but I could see why he was desperate for a job. Donald headed to the control panel up front, and after flicking a switch had the lights working again. "It's… hard, living here at first," I said, watching from behind. "But it's not so bad. It took a while for me to adjust, but I think it shouldn't be too hard for you." After hearing what the man had gone through, he seemed to be able to adapt in situations out of his control.

"Well, at least we have one other thing in common." Donald glanced back at me, closing the circuit board. "We both want our kids safe."

"Wait, our ki-you think Webby's my… ha ha ha!" I laughed at the idea, probably scaring the poor drake. "Webby's not my daughter. Geez, how old do you take me for? She's like a little sister. We're not even related."

"Oops. Sorry." We stood there, and I bit my cheek at the growing awkwardness. He seemed to see it too, and gestured to the booth beside him. "Uh, wanna sit down?"

"Sure." The fabric of the cushions was worn, and some of the sponge was falling out, but it was comfy. "You mean a lot to them, don't you? I've seen Mrs. Beakley get protective over Webby, and I tend to fall in the same boat as her, but man, were you angry!" I'm going off on a limb here, and say that Donald is one prone to temper tantrums. Might be a family thing though. I've seen Scrooge get wound up like that a few times, but not as consistent as Donald. "That was brilliant back there."

"Hehehe. Thanks," Donald replied, accepting the compliment. Though, it did seem he was a little self-conscious about that. Being complimented on one's temper isn't exactly normal. _Then again, nothing about this family is normal._ "You weren't so bad either."

"I live with Mrs. Beakley, who was the influence in Webby's behavior, and Scrooge McDuck. I get a little on the jumpy and paranoid side with the girl's surprise attacks, and with the many enemies Scrooge has, one has to learn how to defend herself. I'm a lot stronger than I look." Flexing my fingers in and out of a fist, I could still feel the contact I made with the Beagle Boy's face. "Pretty sure I should go and do something to fix my hand. I think I either broke or at the very least sprained something."

"Then let's go to the kitchen to get you some ice." He got up from his side of the table, and headed back to the door.

"Okay." I walked out after him, and grinned. "Don't suppose you'd be up for a cup of coffee? Help calm the nerves after our little escapade?" Donald seemed to brighten at the offer, nodding enthusiastically.

"Sure! Featherstone, right?" He glanced back at my confused expression, and laughed. "Anyone ever tell you you smell like their shop?"

"I, uh… actually, you're the first to ever notice." A teasing grin crossed his bill, and he waited for me at the manor's door.

"Then let's go, coffee girl." _Coff-oh, this is payback for the nickname, isn't it?_ "Ha ha ha ha!" Well, at least I don't laugh like a dying cat.

"Fine then, sailor boy." I punched Donald in the arm with my good hand, and I chuckled as he went immediately to grab it. _Hehe, yeah. I hit hard._ "May the best duck win." Ah, he's doomed himself.

* * *

 **So, it isn't a very long chapter. Not all of them are going to be as huge as the episode one chapters.**

 **I've been working on how old exactly Donald and the triplets are. Seeing how their mom vanished ten years ago, they must have only been several months old when Donald began taking care of them. For how this story works, I'm picturing Della and Donald being in their mid-twenties when this Spear of Selene thing happened, which means he would be in his mid-thirties now. Say, 33 or 34. As for Scrooge's age... really, do we even have an idea? I've got nothing.**

 **Until next time!**

 **Angel**


	5. Hitting the Books

**Disclaimer: Sorry for the slow update. I've got a midterm next week, two labs, and one assignment all in the same class this week. While they're all done now, it took forever to finish them. Seeing how I've got not much time to write, and I'm making this up as I go, future chapters might take a while.**

 **RainbowCelin: Good guess, but I'm pretty sure he's older than mid-50's. Much, much older than that. And… my plush! Get your own demonic triangle overlord!**

 **ultima-owner: Older, definitely.**

 **kakashiluckyblackcat: Episodes, you mean. Hard to have a favorite with only nine released so far.**

 **twilight-sweden: Well, she can't possibly hang around Scrooge all day.**

 **Jarjaxle: That's my profile picture. While I try to have personalized covers for each of my stories, I haven't made one for this yet. So, what you thought was April was Mini Angel. As for what you're thinking with the pairing, I am not confirming nor denying anything. Right now, it's more of an older brother and younger sister relationship. What you're suggesting is still being thrown about in the land of wacky ideas inside my head. Daisy Duck won't make an appearance, and for the age thing… (shrugs).**

 **DaSaVage: Webby would be around the same age as the triplets, but maybe a few months younger. Scrooge couldn't be 75 if it was 75 years when he tried to climb the mountain. Which means… I'm going to make it a running gag on the duck's age!**

 **WolfGirl01: It was an idea I came up with at the last minute. Figured, why not? Yeah, Louie's crush is going to be a running gag. It'll probably play an important role in an episode in the future. Donald and April? There's going to be lots of teasing and insults thrown around.**

 **snake screamer: I already knew all of that, actually. This chapter will be split between Louie, and Dewey and Webby trying to figure out the boys' mother's history.**

 **grapejuice101: I wasn't around for the original, and I can't find it anywhere online. Plus, the reboot reminds me of Gravity Falls, which is my main fandom.**

"Speaking"

 _Thinking_

" **Reading** "

* * *

"April. April, are you in there? It's me, Dewey. Can I come in?"

"Oh. Sure. Just, uh, watch your step."

The door to my room swung open, and Dewey looked around. "Why would I need to-whoa." The boy certainly had caught me at an interesting time. Pictures and documents were scattered across the floor, over my desk and window seat, and all over my bed. Dewey looked at the floor, and carefully began to traverse over the maze I ended up creating. "What's going on here?"

"Personal and business work. I'm trying to deal with your uncle's finances, while doing some of my own while I'm at it. Taxes and paying your employees are a real pain in the tail feathers." Dewey nodded, and picked up one of the images. "As for the photos, that's uh… personal reasons." I knew which photo he grabbed. It was an image of myself when I was younger, perhaps his age, playing in the yard with my mom. Dewey's face smiled sadly, and he handed it back to me.

"April, can I ask you something?" _Well, you just did, but sure._ I nodded, and he took a breath. "What do you know about my mom?"

"I… I'm so sorry, Dewey. I am about as clueless as you are. Whatever happened with your uncles and your mom was before I started working for Scrooge. I never even knew he had more nephews until Donald showed up. But," I stood up, stretching my back. "But I believe I know just the person to go for answers."

"Really? Then let's go!" Maneuvering back to the door, I took the lead in heading off down the hall. "Ten years, huh? So, you'd have started working at 15."

"Yep. Pay's good, and I get food and a roof over my head. Scrooge was welcoming when he took me in, and Mrs. Beakley and him showed me the ropes." Sure, the guy had his... moments, but he wasn't as bad as Donald kept saying. Under his breath. A lot. Dewey paused for a moment in thought, and quickly jogged to catch up.

"April, are you… are you an orphan?" There it was. Only a matter of time before one of them pieced it together. Breathing deeply through clenched teeth, I nodded as I stopped in front of the door we needed.

"Once we're through with you, I'll tell you, okay?" The response seemed to satisfy him, and I opened the door. "Hey, Webby! You in here? We need your disturbing knowledge of the McDuck family!" We moved to stand in the middle of the room, looking around for said girl.

"Why didn't you say so?" Webby dropped down from the top of a bookshelf, holding a red notebook covered in glitter. "What are you looking for, Dewey? Shoe sizes? Dark secrets known only to your Uncle Scrooge that could change the fate of the world as we know it?" No, but I wouldn't mind hearing those down the road.

"What do you know about my mom?" Webby gasped, and she hurried to close the window's curtain and close the door behind us.

"What do **you** know about your mom?" She asked. That's what I would like to know. If my age guessing was right, the triplets would have been months old when they were put into Donald's custody. Did… did they even have memories of their mom?

"Uncle Donald just told us she was… gone. The only thing we have of her is this photo." I moved to look at the image myself, and smiled. It was of a laughing Della shoving Donald, then in a blue sailor suit, into a pink frosted cake.

"Photographic evidence! I've gotta add it to my Della Duck file." She took the picture, and pulled out a file from the bookshelf. Sticking it in, Dewey took it from her to look for himself.

"You have a whole file on my mom?" He opened it, and we both frowned. It was only the picture. Nothing else. No papers, or images. Nothing. "Seriously? This is it?"

"I've been looking into her for years, but there's nothing," Webby explained. "No photos, no records. No on even talks about her. One time, a piece of junk mail with her name on it showed up at our door, and a day later, Scrooge bought the post office, and I never saw our mailman again." I stared at the family tree she created, and the question mark drawn above Della's name.

"I can vouch for that," I added. "I never knew about Donald having a sister, but from what I'm getting here is bad things happen to people who talk about your mother."

"So who are we gonna ask?" Dewey asked. Webby's face melted into a sly smirk, and she gestured for us to follow her.

"Your uncle has a meeting today at his money bin. Where we're going, we're going to have to tag along for the limo ride." She looked to me, and I picked up where she left off. _If I'm correct, I know just who she's talking about._

"The building is home to your family's archives. Everything and anything you want to know is located right there. Webby, and myself included on the rare occasion, have tried to check it out, but the librarian wouldn't let us pass." The woman was downright terrifying with that sword of hers. The first time I went down there, she tore a good chunk out of my jacket. "She won't let anyone who isn't related to Scrooge inside."

"I see what you're laying down," Dewey smirked. "What are we waiting for then? Let's go find Uncle Scrooge!"

(Time Skip)

"You have arrived at your destination." _I… hate… this!_ Scrooge, I swear, you need a better driver! Launchpad had rammed into one of the columns in the parking area under the money bin, crushing the front against the cement. Scrooge, not bothered by this in the slightest, opened the door and let us and Louie out. Huey, for some odd reason, didn't come along. To be honest, I wasn't sure why the green triplet was coming with. With how he kept looking at Scrooge, I had a feeling there was a lesson going on.

"Be back at 6, Launchpad," Scrooge told him. "We've got a long, hard day of work ahead of us." Louie was rubbing the back of his head, still sore from the impact of the crash. Groaning under his breath at his uncle's words, he looked to the ground depressingly. _Gee, what's up with him?_

"Gotcha, Mr. McD." Launchpad backed out of the area, with the front having popped up to reveal the engine block.

"I'll… I'll message him and let him know," I informed Scrooge.

"Thanks for letting us tag along, Uncle Scrooge, but… I… suddenly very much have to use the bathroom." Dewey backed up, glancing at me and Webby slyly.

"Oh, and we will show you where to go to that place." Taking his hand, Webby dragged him off towards the stairs behind us, and I glanced back at my boss.

"Am I needed, Scrooge? Dewey and Webby sort of had something planned with me today." Scrooge nodded, and rested a hand on Louie's shoulder.

"The lad is going to be learning about business today. Seein' how you've started workin' a few years his senior, why don't you come along and show him the ropes?" Louie gave me a hopeful look, silently asking for me not to leave him alone all day.

"Alright," I relented. "I'll message them and tell them I'll join up later. Let's go." The three of us headed towards the elevator across from the stairs, and Scrooge pressed the button to bring us up to the floor. Taking out my phone, I quickly sent a text to Webby. Well… more like I texted Dewey. Webby didn't own a phone, and while we were in the limo, Dewey came up with the idea that I should have his contact information in case something happened. Louie had a phone on him, so I got his number too. Huey's I had to get from them, and I also got Donald's while I was at it.

The elevator door opened, and Scrooge and me directed Louie across the large waiting area. A globe was standing beside the office desk, with a series of mailing tubes coming down from the ceiling. One of the tubes delivered several documents, and I scooped it up to crack it open. "This is what I do, kid. Run errands, make appointments, deal with finances. As an assistant, I do many jobs, and see many things. It's difficult, but it's certainly rewarding." _So, yes, this was actually where I worked when I came to the bin._ Scrooge gave a pleased smile, and Louie was watching the room in fascination. A huge painting of Scrooge in working clothes hung behind the desk, with two other workers beside him. We were almost to the other side of the room when he finally caught sight of the money bin. Why Scrooge decided to have the office right in front of the door, I don't really know… or why the door was left open, anyway.

"The money!" Louie gasped, running over to get a better look. "You want me to count the gold? Can we go out and spend some gold to make sure it doesn't expire?" Scrooge walked over to him, shaking his head.

"There's more to money than just money." Grabbing his hoodie, he dragged the nephew over to a pedestal by the wall. _Ah, the number one dime._ Don't you just love a decoy? "Gold is a beautiful thing, but even something as small as a dime can have meaning." Personally, I loved this story. That simple coin was the inspiration for him to find his fortune, and for him to hire me. I never got tired of hearing it. "For instance-" Scrooge stopped short, seeing Louie had run off to the money bin again. He beat me to the door, and managed to catch Louie before he dove off the platform. "Are you out of your head? You'll crack your skull open."

"But you swim in money all the time," Louie protested.

"Yes, but I worked hard to prefect that skill, building muscles and dexterity." He had a point. Not anyone could pull it off. I've at least gone down the ladder to check it out myself. It's… there's a lot of air in that pile, but it's pretty hard to pull it off. You'd have to have a good amount of lung capacity before you dive, and be able to go deep enough through the coins to consider it a dive. "If you want something, you work hard to get it." My phone gave a buzz, and I quickly checked it.

"Scrooge, the board is here to see you now." Confused, Scrooge took out a pocket watch, checking the time.

"We don't have a board meeting today. No matter. Come, lad. Welcome to the fast-paced world of business."

(Time Skip)

Business meetings: love, and extremely despise them with a passion of a thousand burning suns. Those vultures-figuratively and literally-tried to cut costs in everything Scrooge does. The three birds sat at the far end of the table in the board room, gesturing to the charts put up behind them on the wall. Scrooge and me listened while Louie looked close to falling asleep. I had my notebook out, jotting down a summary of key points they were making. Revenues going down in international markets. But, what else is ne-?

"Shut up, everyone. I've done something brilliant." The door right beside me burst open, and a chicken came barging in with a box in his arms.

"G-Gyro!" I cried, holding the table with a death grip in one hand, and gripping my notebook with the other. "Give a little warning next time!"

"Sorry, April," he quickly said, dismissing me. Louie climbed back into his chair, having fallen out of it, and Scrooge visibly relaxed once he saw who it was.

"Ah, Gyro. Gyro Gearloose, my head of research and development," he introduced the man to Louie.

"I'm sorry, but we-" one of the vultures tried to explain that they were in a matter of business, but Gyro waved him off.

"Apology accepted. Now try to keep up with my mind-numbing genius." Gyro Gearloose. He's… I, uh, don't really know what to call him. He's certainly a nerd, as that is to be expected with his department. But he's pretty fun to be around. Whenever I went on break, I'd make sure the inventor had something to eat and actually rested in between his planning and testing. Gyro could be down there for ages, completely swamped with an idea that had gone overboard, and be there for days.

"Gyro, what did we say about interacting with other people?" Scrooge asked. Yeah, also should mention that Scrooge and me were the only people who could have a proper conversation with him. To others, he made them feel lower and more slow-minded.

"The cards. Fine," Gyro grumbled, pulling them out of his brown vest. "Hello, Mr. McDuck, and others. Are you tired of all those single-use gadgets cluttering up your junk drawer? What a mess. There's got to be a better way." He sat down the box in the middle of the long table, and pulled out a light bulb with a robot body. "Meet Li'l Bulb, the tiny, all-purpose robot that does it all." The robot waved at the businessmen, and I grinned at how adorable it was.

"Wait, what does it do?" The lead vulture asked, looking from it to him.

"It all." Gyro slapped a hand to his forehead in exasperation. "Li'l Bulb is an artifcially intelligent personal robot helper. He can make toast-" Gyro held out a piece of bread, and the robot burnt it with its head-"find your keys"-the robot then jumped at one of the men, and pulled out his keys-"serve as a book light for your late-night reading." The robot then got extremely bright, blinding the three. "You'll never have to do anything yourself again."

"Mm-hmm. And how do you ensure this one won't achieve sentience and turn evil like all the others?" The leader asked, as they all rubbed their eyes, blinking back spots.

"Only half my inventions turn evil. The other half are just wildly misunderstood." Li'l Bulb made several motions to the vulture, and while I couldn't tell what they were, I doubted they were pleasant.

"What's it doing?"

"Waving. It likes you." Gyro picked up the robot, letting it stand on his hand. The three men exchanged a look, and turned to him.

"Request denied." Gyro sighed, sitting the robot back into the box, and headed for the door. Scrooge got out of his chair, and held it open for him. I frowned, and leaned closer to him as he went past.

"Well, I think Li'l Bulb's pretty great," I whispered.

"Li'l Bulb is something great," Gyro muttered, and flashed me a small smile before scowling again. "I'll show them. I'll show them all!"

"And maybe wait until you're out of the room to say that next time," Scrooge added, closing it behind the chicken. Moving back to his seat, Louie leaned towards him.

"A robot that does everything for you? How could you say no to that?"

"Part of hard work is knowing how to work with others. My board are the only people cheaper than I am. I trust them completely to make good financial decisions-"

"Indeed," the main bird interrupted him. "Which is why we've called this meeting to discuss cutting your unnecessary spending here at the Money Bin,"

"Unnecessary!? I'm Scrooge McDuck. I don't spend one penny more than I need to." Scrooge stood up from his seat, flabbergasted at the accusation.

"It says here you're spending 15 million dollars on magical defense." _It's an extremely practical purchase! I've seen why we needed them, and it's sound investment!_

"Do you have any idea how many vengeance curses I have on my head?" He sat down in a huff, and I winced at the building tension. Louie seemed to see it too, and slid out of his chair.

"Think I'm just gonna go and, uh… get a drink. Yeah." He went out the door on the other side of Scrooge, leaving us to the meeting. The vultures shuffled through the files in their hands, and I leaned back against my chair, breathing deeply. _Man, I hate these meetings._

"Be that as it may," the head bird continued. "Perhaps eliminating redundant employees would be more suitable." He cast a look at me, and I hardened my own gaze.

"As you well know, I was hired to fulfill the position of a personal assistance and secretary. Something Mr. McDuck did not have at the time. True, it may not be essential, but he hired me on his own decision. If I am to leave, it will be by his choice. Without me, this place would not run as smoothly as it does now." Gripping my pen and paper in my fist, I was certain I was going to break the ink cartridge at any second. "If you will excuse me, I have to go attend to my boss' other nephew and my friend, who no doubt have stumbled into trouble at this point." With that as my last word, I got up, and exited the door Gyro took.

Yeah, this happened a lot. More than I could count, actually. It was exceedingly worse when I was younger, but I had grown used to it. Oh, just because you're the board, you think you know everything! NOT! That magical defense Scrooge was talking about had proved useful at most ten times since I've been here. Protective barriers, spells, and charms kept every possible evil creature out. "Ugh, I need to punch something!"

"April?" Stopping, I turned to see Louie walking up to me, a can of Pep in hand. "Something wrong?"

"N-nothing, Louie. Just need to go check on your brother and Webby. And… and take a bit of a breather. I really hate the board." _I'm mentally drained too._ Maybe the kid was on to something with the drink break. "Just be on your toes when you go back in there. Your uncle looks like he's about to blow a fuse."

"We don't have toes. We're ducks," Louie chuckled. "But I'll take you up on that advice. See you, April." With a wink, the triplet walked past me towards the door I had left. _Still need to discuss that flirt thing with Donald._ Heading to the elevator, I pulled out my phone to message Dewey while I waited for it to come to my level.

"Wonder how they're doing," I muttered, seeing the three dots showing a reply was coming. With a ding, the message appeared, and I blinked in confusion. "Seriously? Dewey, what did you do to make her bring out the sword?" She only did that to prevent Webby and me-sometimes, usually it's just her-from getting inside. He must have really annoyed the librarian. The doors opened up, and I stepped into the elevator. "Basement, here I come." It took a while to get to the right floor. I had to switch out at one point when Gyro got in, as he was heading to another floor entirely. With a smile and a quick excuse, I filed out and went to the stairwell instead.

The ground shook above me, as I took the next few flights downwards, and I bet it had something to do with Li'l Bulb. His inventions... not always the greatest, but they were fun to be around when they weren't trying to kill you. I didn't trust the elevator anymore, and took the stairs all the way down to the lower level where the archives were. Stepping out through the door, and checking my surroundings carefully, I began maneuvering through the halls to the archive room. _So far so good._ Everything would have been fine, until the ground to begin to rumble under my webbed feet. "What the-HOLY!" Diving back against the wall, Louie and a giant robot came barreling past me, and broke down the archive doors. "… seriously!?" _Gyro, why can't you build something that won't go mad and try to destroy us!?_ As fast as they entered, the boy slid back out from under the machine's legs, and continued down the hall. The robot backed up, and stormed after him, leaving cracks in the tiled floor from its weight. Breathing deeply, I straightened myself back up, and headed to the hole in the wall. "Kids? Dewey? Webby, are you both alright?"

Seeing that the two are still running from Quackfaster, and throwing books at her, I'd say no. "Don't come any closer, or the book gets it," I heard Dewey shout from the back of the room. "I will crease this corner, man, so back off. Tell me about my mom."

"Why don't you see for yourself?" Quackfaster asked. Heading into the room, I looked around each bookshelf, searching for the three as they talked.

"This is it. This is it! This is… nothing." What was nothing? What did they find?

"Wait. I've seen that number before. Follow me." Webby and Dewey ran out from a row of books ahead of me, and the girl grabbed my wrist as they went past. "We got a lead. Come on." Running to another area of the archives, we came to a stop in a corner with a panel on the wall. "I don't understand. It should be here somewhere."

"W-wait. These books. They're all out of order." Dewey looked at the shelves on either side, and I saw he was right. _But… why would they be out of order, unless…?_ "Quackfaster's a lot of things, but she's not sloppy."

"Use your training. The most valuable knowledge must be learned," Quackfaster's voice echoed from within the room.

"Okay, how much of this is about us doing your work for you?" Dewey asked, clearly annoyed by her antics.

"About fifty percent." _Figures._ The three of us nodded, and we split up to reorganize the books. I took to the higher shelves, while the kids got the lower ones. While I wasn't one for library cataloging, my skills with organization I had picked up as an assistant surely was paying off here. Hopping down from a ladder, I watched as Dewey put in the last book, and a bright blue light lit up around the book, coming down the shelf and leading straight to the panel on the wall. _Did we… trigger something?_ That was not normal, was it?

The panel lowered, revealing a hand scanner inside. Webby and me backed off, letting Dewey approach with an outstretched palm. "O-okay, here goes. Ow!" He yanked his hand back, and we saw a needle had come up from the index finger. Shaking his hand, he looked at us. "What is up with this stupid library?"

"McDuck family DNA recognized." Freezing at the computer voice coming from the panel, we stepped back as the wall began to split apart, and open into another room. "Whoa," the three of us breathed. The ceiling was painted like the night sky, with mountains and ancient architecture surrounding the crescent moon. Lowering our gaze, we saw dozens upon dozens of artifacts mounted and displayed around the cerulean room. Webby brought out her camera, and began clicking away as fast as she could.

"Mom." Glancing at Dewey's saddened face, I looked up to see him staring at a portrait of Della on the wall above us. Still in her pilot's gear, standing atop of a plane with a happy expression on her face. "But why would this stuff be hidden? I gotta show Huey and Louie."

"Wait. What's this?" Webby pointed at a frame hanging on the wall, with a note written in cursive stuck inside.

" **Scrooge, I've taken the Spear of Selene. I'm sorry, Della.** " The Spear of… that's the thing Donald was arguing about with Scrooge in the temple. How… Scrooge was not responsible for what happened. _Did… did Scrooge have anything to do with Della's disappearance?_ "Wait, what did she take? Why is she sorry?"

"It's the same thing your uncles were arguing about in Atlantis," I murmured, ignoring the two turning away from the paper. I stared at the note, confused. "Whatever happened with your mom… Scrooge and Donald had a role in it."

"Did she betray your Uncle Scrooge?" Webby asked, baffled. Dewey, conflicted with the discovery, gave her a firm shake of his head.

"I dunno. But we can't tell anyone about this until we find out what it means." Webby nodded, and I quickly pulled out my notebook. _I need to remember this. I need to._ Furiously scribbling down the words on a fresh page, I snapped it shut and turned to them.

"Let's go, guys. I-I think we've had enough excitement for one day."

Sending a quick message to Scrooge to alert him that we were done, we headed to the parking garage. The meeting actually was let out early, probably due to the robot rampage. Whatever it was, he had already called Launchpad to come and get us early. Louie and Scrooge came out of the elevator just as we came up the stairs. Louie seemed… more depressed than when I last saw him. _What's eating him?_ Looking to my boss, Scrooge fished in his coat, and flashed the chain around his neck for me to see. _The lucky dime, huh?_ Why do I get the feeling this involved the decoy dime and the robot that was right on his back?

"Something wrong, Louie?" I finally spoke, drawing his attention. "Long day of work, huh?" Louie sighed, sticking his hands into his hoodie and nodded glumly. "The stress of what we do is exhausting, but it's worthwhile. How much something so small, can mean so much." Grinning, I fished into my jacket's pocket, the one not holding my notebook, and pulled out my wallet. "You deserve this." Flicking my fingers, I sent the coin flying through the air and into his hands. Catching it, he stared at it in shock. "Don't go wasting it, alright?"

"I'll treasure it forever," Louie said in aw, gripping it tightly. Sticking the pocketbook away, I laughed at his answer.

"That's what I like to hear." The limo pulled up beside us, and I opened the door. "Alright, kids. We've had a long and tiring day, but I think we all deserve a treat. How about ice cream on the way home?" Louie, Webby, and Dewey whooped loudly at my offer, and scrambled into the car. Scrooge chuckled, patting my shoulder. Nothing more was said between us. The smile was all I needed to tell I did a good thing, giving the boy the coin. _What can I say? Hehe. I learned from the best._

* * *

 **I've been busy. As much as I love working on stories, school always comes first. Unfortunately, I have a midterm next week, so the next chapter should be delayed as well.**

 **See you all soon!**

 **Angel**


	6. A Civil Conversation

**Disclaimer: Like I said, school keeps me busy. Don't expect another chapter to be out as fast. I haven't had much time to write.**

 **ultima-owner: Hehe. Skynet.**

 **RainbowCelin: So. Many. Midterms! I have four at the end of the month.**

 **WolfGirl01: April gets a lot of snide comments due to her age and her job. They have nothing to do with her parents' death. That was not on purpose. The vultures had no part in it. Webby's knowledge… weird, but kinda cool?**

 **Jarjaxle: This and my Gravity Falls chapter were being kind of… buggy. Same as a lot of other people, we were unable to see new reviews at the time. I re-uploaded in an attempt to fix the problem. More episodes should be out by the time I reach episode 9. With all these midterms coming up, chapters are coming out more slowly.**

 **Be on the look out for a lot of references to old Donald comics.**

"Speaking"

 _Thinking_

* * *

"Oh, I'm so bored!" Smacking my head against one of the windows in the hall, I groaned loudly. "Where is everybody?" Last I had heard from Webby, she had gone with the boys to play at the beach. Mrs. Beakley was off cleaning, and Scrooge was probably dealing with his fortune. Like… he does all the time. _He needs a break, honestly._ Besides the Atlantis thing, he's been working non-stop.

It was getting late though. The sun was already starting to set, bathing Duckburg in an orange glow. But it was still too early to call it a night. "Hmm." Straightening up and rubbing the sore spot on my forehead, I looked out the window I stopped out. "I wonder…" I wasn't sure if the drake was out there, but hey, it beat hanging by myself for the next few hours. Continuing down the hall, I opened up the door to the courtyard and began walking around the pool, searching for any sign of life on board the boat. "Hey, Donald? Are you in there?"

"April? What is-wah!?" Donald's now-infamous cry-guy sounds like a dying cat, but I ain't telling him that-came from the boat, and I grinned as he tripped exiting the door, flying over the edge and into the pool below. His head popped out of the water, spraying the chlorine out of his mouth. I couldn't help it. I slapped a hand to my mouth, laughing. Donald gave me an annoyed glare and swam over to the pool's edge, climbing out. Shaking off the water and readjusting his hat, he turned to me. "Are you done?"

"I-I'm done, hehe. I was just wondering if I could talk with you for a while. Webby and the boys are out playing, and I'm bored," I admitted. Donald shrugged, and gestured to me to follow him back up the ramp. The boat certainly didn't smell like smoke anymore, and it was definitely cleaned up since I was last inside. _Guess I know what he was up to when we went to the archives._ Donald moved over to the kitchen area, and I took a seat in the booth. "What were you up to?"

"Makin' popcorn," he replied over his shoulder. The white feathered duck returned from the stove top, holding a large bowl full of said food. Setting it down, he moved opposite of me and tossed a piece into his mouth.

"Nice." I took a handful of the snack food, and began to eat them one at a time. _So… what should I talk to him about-oh. Better do this before I forget._ "Donald, your nephew Louie… is he always a flirt?" I blinked, watching him gag for a moment. Hitting his chest and dislodging the food, he gave me an alarmed look. _Oh, so he didn't know._ "Louie keeps giving me passes; winking, and flirty comments. Figured it was normal in his behavior or something."

"I-it is," he stammered. "But he doesn't normally do that unless it benefits him." Like he does it to gain stuff? Sweet talker, huh? "Unless…" he put a hand to his bill, looking away in thought. "Louie actually… oh no."

"C'mon, Don. What's wrong with a boy having his first real crush?" I smirked. "I mean, it's flattering, but he and I both know I'm way too old for him." It's also on me for being so sweet to him, giving him that dime of mine and cheering him up. "Kid will find someone more his age."

Donald turned back to me, lowering his hand. "How old are you, April?" I mock gasped, holding my free hand to my chest.

"Donald, how dare you! Don't you know you never ask a woman her age?" Cracking a smile at his deadpanned look, I answered his question. "25. I met Scrooge when I was in high school, down by the waterfront. Been here ever since."

"25," he repeated. "That explains why you were laughing when I thought you were Webby's mom." Nodding in agreement, I shoved the rest of my popcorn into my mouth. "I'm 34." Huh. That makes sense. He didn't seem to be in his 40s, but he was no doubt in his 20s.

"Then you received custody of Huey, Dewey, and Louie when you were 24, right?" Donald hesitantly nodded, and I frowned at that. "I won't pressure you, or anyone else in trying to figure out what happened ten years ago. It's just… whatever happened with you, your sister, and Scrooge was not long before I met him. He was certainly… depressed, I believe would be the right word. Neither of us really expected to find someone else in need of cheering up down at the docks. After a few choice words, he offered me a job: be his assistant, and live in the manor. With the money I now have, I could easily afford my own apartment, but I can't imagine leaving this place." Wills and all certainly helped when added on top of the paycheck I get each month.

"What about your family? Don't your parents wonder where you went?" I bit the inside of my cheek, shaking my head.

"They… died, a month or so before I met Scrooge. Electrical fire. It's why my feathers look like this. The random lighter brown patches are scars. I wear this coat to cover my arms, as they're the worst. Dewey figured it out himself a few days ago, but I… haven't really had the heart to explain it to him, or the other boys yet." Dropping my head, I stared at the table, deep in thought. "Wonder though… what they would think of me now? Never really imagined this was where my life would end up; working for the richest duck in the world, and dealing with the supernatural."

I was almost in a daze, until a hand was suddenly laying atop of my own. Bringing my eyes up, Donald gave me a sad smile. "Looks like we have more in common than we thought." _Huh. Guess so._ _Family troubles, and just trying to take each day as it comes._ Taking his hand back, he took another piece of popcorn. "What else do you want to talk about?"

"Uh, let me think… how about we just do something like ask one question, and the other person then asks one, and we go back and forth like that?" He nodded, and I pondered for a moment for a first question. "Favorite type of music?"

"Latin," he responded without a second thought. "I have some old friends form Portugal and Mexico that got me stuck on samba and other types. We even used to perform songs together. Called ourselves The Three Caballeros." Latin America? I've always wanted to do some traveling down there. Rio seemed really beautiful. But Donald singing? I don't think that'd be a very... pleasant thing to experience. "You?"

"Electro swing. It's not everyone's thing, but then again, I prefer the different and unique. Okay, so do you always wear sailor suits? Is that, like, a thing for you? Because Dewey showed me a picture of you in a blue version of the one you're already wearing." Donald seemed amused by my question, pausing to chuckle.

"I already told you I was in the Navy. Boats required a uniform, and I guess the sailor look stuck to me," he shrugged.

"Well, it is certainly better than the business suit I first met you in. No offense, but it didn't really suit you." The older duck got up from his seat, heading back other to the kitchen and began rummaging through the fridge. "What about your high school years?" Donald moved back over, and slid me a can of Pep.

"Depends. What's your opinion on math?" I grimaced at the question, sticking my tongue out. "It wasn't my greatest subject. History wasn't too bad. Uncle Scrooge's to blame for my interest. Late night studying led to an… interesting dream about being in the army during World War Two." _Uh… okay?_ "What's your opinion on Scrooge?"

Okay, so now we're getting into more personal questions. "Well… he's certainly… eccentric, given the moment. He's stubborn, and easy to anger. Not too mention all the enemies the guy's made. But he… he didn't have to take me in. He could have just as easily left me be, but he didn't. He brought me back to McDuck Manor, and that was it. Whatever weird friendship we have, I'm perfectly happy with it. Sure, there's many a secret being kept from me, but if I'm to learn the truth one day, then why pressure for it now?" Donald nodded, thinking over my response. "Okay, I got one more question. How old is Scrooge?" Donald opened his mouth, but snapped it shut. _Seriously, h-he doesn't know either?_ He scratched his head, and shrugged. "Oh, well. That's another thing I need to figure out about the old duck." I glanced out the window of the boat up front, and frowned. "It's getting late. I should probably head to the waterfront and go check up on Webby."

"I should go get the boys," he agreed. We got up from our seats, and headed towards the garage. "Do you want a ride?" Opening the door for me, we stepped into the large room. There was the station wagon, parked right beside my own car.

"Sure." I hopped into the passenger seat, buckling in as he started up the vehicle. With a press of a button, we drove out of the manor and headed out towards where the triplets and Webby last said they were. As we headed along the main road, and with the ocean approaching in the distance, I glanced over at Don. "Listen, do you think you can… gather the boys up tomorrow morning? It'd be a good idea to explain my little backstory to them all instead of one at a time."

"Of course," he replied, driving to the edge of the road to park. Climbing out, we looked around. It was almost pitch black now, with the sun having finally set. There were stars, but not many street lights. "This isn't…"

"Something's wrong here," I muttered, agreeing with the unsaid idea. "It's too quiet." I didn't have my bag with me, which meant no supplies like a flashlight or a pocket knife. All I had was my notebook and my phone. I could have used the flashlight setting, but that was way too bright. If there was something out there, I didn't wanna draw attention to us.

"What could be wrong?" Donald asked, voice low.

"I'm not sure. I just feel like we're-AAHHH!"

"WAAUGH!"

Just to be fair, I have be kidnapped before. Just once, but hey, that's to be expected with working for Scrooge. A second time, well… that was just pathetic. The Beagle Boys crept up on us, grabbing our arms and shoving gags in our mouths. I don't just mean the normal group of dogs that we ran into before. This was the whole nine yards. Every Beagle Boy in Duckburg was here. As the trio who attacked the kids at the pier tied us up at some destroyed stage by the water, pinning our arms to the same pillar across some girl who looked a few years older than Webby, we watched the large crowd set up for some sort of party.

The young duck stared at us in confusion, before hearing something behind her. "Mebby?" I exclaimed, mouth still covered with the cloth. What the-what is she doing here? The hen rushed up to the new girl, taking the gag away and letting her speak.

"Webby, you came!" Her voice was slightly lower than Webby's, probably a year or two older than my young friend.

"Like I could ditch you. We're the Beagle Birds." Not sure exactly what that means, but I'm guessing my little girl found herself a new pal. Webby grunted, tugging at the ropes binding her. She didn't even seem to notice me and Donald across from her. Stumbling back, I winced as she hit the stage lights behind her, turning them all on and lighting her up.

And of course, she got tied up too. "You two ladies have given us a lot of trouble tonight. But it'll be worth it when Ma sees her birthday gift." The short Beagle Boy from the net trap tied a red ribbon around the girls, each on a separate pillar, and stood up to admire his handiwork.

"And we got some early Mother's Day shopping out of the way too." The large one, who I clearly remembered was the one I socked right in the face, brought out his arm to reveal the boys in his beefy fist, upside-down. Donald squawked loudly, and began thrashing at his ropes violently. The boys and Webby finally took notice of us, and I glared harshly back at them. _You are in so much trouble when we get back!_ I mentally screamed.

"Seriously, your rescue plan was to throw yourself blindly into the middle of the entire Beagle family?" The girl remarked in annoyance. As the boys were carted off, Webby cut her off before she could continue.

"How is that any different than what you did at the junkyard?" Webby asked.

"I wasn't tied up at the junkyard," she fired back. "Now I remember why I avoid family. All they do is-"

"Fight?" Webby interrupted. The girls froze, and looked at each other for a moment. _Finally._ With enough wiggling, I managed to loosen the blindfold, freeing my beak.

"Girls, as much as I'd love for this reconciliation to continue, I'd really like to get the heck out of here!" I hissed, not wanting to alert the criminal's attention.

The girl paused to think, before a sly grin crossed her face. "Yeah, I got one." She spoke up, gaining the Beagle Boys' eyes. _Was she answering me, or whatever they were talking about?_ "Which one of you gets to hand us over?"

"Say what, now?"

"I mean, you could all hand us over and share the credit, or…" with that, we watched the family begin to argue. A fog machine was turned on in the soon-developed fight, and I looked back to the girls. Webby, with quick work, climbed backwards up her pillar and freed herself once she could pull her rope over to the other side. Ripping it to shreds with her teeth and freeing her wrists, she quickly began untying the mystery girl.

"Hey, uh, little help over here." The two ran over to us, and undid the ropes binding us together. Donald yanked the gag off, and we turned to the large Beagle Boy still holding onto the boys. "Don-?" The drake didn't have time to rush them, as the girls ran at the towering muscle. Webby tackled his face, making him stumble backwards and having him trip over the other girl. As he landed on the stage, unconscious, the boys rolled out of his hand.

"To the boat!" Huey shouted. Running past one of the Beagle Boys, and letting Webby shove him into the water, we all awkwardly climbed into the small rowboat, and began paddling as fast as we could away from the stage. Panting, the kids all sighed with relief, before remembering their newfound company. Donald and me, both with arms crossed, glared at the kids. "Uh… we can explain?"

"Just get us to the beach," I muttered. Rowing back didn't take too long, but the boat was taking water with how heavy its cargo was. Once we were close enough, I jumped into ankle-deep water, and walked back to the shoreline. "I just-Webby, you could have gone straight to me. Why the heck did you four go off against the Beagle Boys?"

"You better have a good excuse," Donald added. The kids murmured, trying to come up with a sound idea until the other girl raised her hand.

"They were coming to rescue me. It wasn't their fault." The kids quieted down at that, staring at her in shock. "That's what family's about, eh, Englabeth?" She elbowed Webby, who laughed at the terrible British accent.

"Oh, I knew you'd come through in a spot, Brittania," she replied.

"A li'l Penny-come-quick to get ya yet to be."

"Fluff and nonsense." The girls laughed, and we all stared at them in confusion. "You kinda had to be there." I looked to Donald, who seemed to be slowly calming down. Breathing deeply, his shoulders lowered from his tense state.

"Three days of houseboat cleaning," he informed the boys. "And I'm sure April will be informing Mrs. B. about your little adventure." Webby lowered her head, but nodded. "Come, boys." The triplets followed after him towards where we parked the car, and I looked back to the girls.

"You know, I would really like the name of my figurative little sister's new friend." The girl smirked, and held out her hand.

"Lena. Nice jacket."

"April. Nice hair dye," I grinned. "Let's go, Webby. Being tied up for who knows how long, I think it's almost dawn now." It was. The sun, barely visible, started peaking out over the ocean. "Don and the boys are waiting for us. It was nice meeting you, Lena." With a hand on Webby's shoulder, I led her towards the station wagon, the girl waving behind her. "You're not getting of freely for this."

"I had a hunch," Webby said with a giggle.

Yeah, that hunch was right. Mrs. Beakley was… wow, she wasn't happy. Not as angry as she could have been, but after explaining what happened, she gave her a light punishment: cleaning the kitchen and all of the washrooms in the mansion for a week. Not that hard of a chore, except there were almost half a dozen washrooms. However, right now… there more important matters to attend to.

Seven pairs of eyes were on me, as all of the residents in the manor were gathered around the dining table. True to his word, Donald had gathered the triplets for me to discuss the reason why I worked with Scrooge, and Mrs. Beakley, Scrooge, and Webby decided to join us. Webby only knew what her grammy told her, which wasn't very much.

Now? Now there wasn't much left to hide. Gave them a more extended version of what I had intially told Scrooge ten years ago, with details such as how the insurance was dealt with, what I wound up in possession of after the fire. And yes, yes, the boys found it extremely exciting that I owned a motorcycle. Why bother with details, when I had captured their attention so well, explaining why I was here, and how I was determined to continue working here in the long-run.

Things seemed… calm. The boys, while they didn't voice it, made it clear they sympathized with being without parents. True, they had Donald, but still. _They-Dewey, I mean, never even mentioned his father._ That should be another thing to talk about with Donald. If I can't bring up his sister's disappearance, then I could try and probe about other topics surrounding here. But… something still seemed off. I'm uncertain if it was the girl Lena, or the fact I'm still recovering from what happened last night, but... why does this all feel like a calm before a storm? _Meh. I'm just paranoid. Scrooge is rubbing off on me way too much._

* * *

 **It's not particularly a long chapter, but the midterm rush made it hard to write. Other chapters should be longer, but there wasn't that much room in this episode for a full-length chapter of normal-size. I still think this went well.**

 **Next chapter should take a while. While I'm off on study break to prep myself, I have four midterms, assignments, and a bunch of other stuff to get done. I'll be back as soon as I can.**

 **Until next time!**

 **Angel**


	7. Terror on the Subway

**Disclaimer: Things have finally calmed down enough for me to finish this chapter. Midterms are over, and now we can return to the wonderful world of Ducktales.**

 **Seriously though, I didn't mean to let this go quiet for almost 2 months, but school got really busy for me, and I didn't have time to work on this and my other story at the same time. This isn't abandoned, but updates will be spaced out sometimes. Good news is my huge story is ending in April (Ha!), so I'll have more time to look at this.**

 **RainbowCelin: I don't know who Frankie is, but yes, I've heard about the school shooting in Florida.**

 **ultima-owner: It was one of the first Disney movies.**

 **Jarjaxle: She's only been in two episodes so far, so it's hard to tell if it'll be great or not.**

 **WolfGirl01: Most likely, yes.**

 **Guest: University comes first in everything. Sorry for the wait, but I was swamped with work.**

"Speaking"

 _Thinking_

" **Reading** "

* * *

"Man, that movie was lame!" I laughed, throwing a grin at the kids behind me. Strangers walked past us from the movie theater's entrance, throwing away their food in the bins outside. "That animation was so terrible it was hilarious!"

"Come, on, that was classic cinema," Dewey argued. "Right, Webby?"

"So good!" She cheered, jumping in excitement. It had taken a while for the four to wear down Mrs. Beakley and Donald, but they were eventually freed from their grounding. To celebrate, I had suggested some cheap horror flick playing downtown. Mrs. Beakley, despite letting Webby off the hook, didn't want her running free so soon, and chose to tag along with us. Her, and Launchpad too, for some... reason. It's not like he's any more adult than me. I'm much more mature, and can actually drive without crashing. Repeatedly. To make things even more interesting, Webby had invited Lena along with us. As far as I could tell, the housekeeper wasn't entirely too fond of the spunky preteen.

"Oh, and remember when the surgeon tried to cut the mole queen in half but then she multiplied into a million mole babies and then they ate him?" Lena imitated a chainsaw, and mimed cutting Webby open. The younger girl cried out, pretending to spew her guts over the floor at her feet. Mrs. Beakley grabbed Lena's arm to hold her back as we turned the corner, making me frown.

Lena was… a more intense version of myself. She was on board with my movie idea, and if memory served me correctly, she had told the older woman that this was a relaxing and calm movie. _Oh, was she ever pulling the feathers over her eyes._ "Lame! Where was the drama. The heart, the needlessly expensive car crash mayhem?" Louie complained. I nodded in agreement. It was about as half-decent as some horror-comedy about, I dunno, a freak storm filled with piranhas or sharks or something.

"Even if mole men did exist, why attack someone in the shower?" Huey added. "With the water running there wouldn't be enough traction to attack anyone above the knee. Totally phony."

"What is with you guys?" Webby asked. "It says right on the poster: based on an actual true novel." True, yes, but not everything you read is fact.

"This is the only book I trust." Huey pulled out a red notebook from under his hat, holding it proudly for us to see. "If it's not in the Junior Woodchuck guidebook, then it's not a thing." Apparently my assumption in him being the intellectual type was spot on. The book must have been well-used, sporting a wearing cover and tape to hold pieces together.

"What about were-ducks?" Webby asked, watching him open it up.

"Nope."

"Tri-clopses?"

"Not a thing."

"Well, what about the legendary Terra-firmians of Duckburg?" _Seriously?_ That one I had heard about. Some weird urban legend about some underground race living in the old subway of the city. Not that I don't believe in the paranormal, but even I thought that one was a bit of a stretch.

"Let's see. Pterodactyl, terror-dactyl, terrible-twos. Nope. No Terra-firmians. Must not exist," Huey declared, just as Webby began laughing.

"What? Terra-firmians, the mythical underground race that live below our very city?" She asked desperately. _She really believes that idea? Where did she even hear about it?_

"Hehe. No. That's ridiculous," Huey replied.

"You're ridiculous," Webby shot back. Okay, this is going to escalate quickly. Best to step in before someone does something they might re-

"Children, children." Lena swung her arms around their necks, pulling them in close. "There's an easy way to settle this." She looked past me, and I turned with the other triplets to stare at the subway entrance across the street. _Ooh! That makes so much more sense._ "Let's go find them ourselves."

"Ahem." Oh, right… forgot about her. Mrs. Beakley gave us a disapproving stare, before a familiar scream came from around the corner. She dashed off, with Louie and Dewey behind her, leaving me and the other kids behind.

"Okay, so I'm making this clear right now," I whispered. "We're doing this no matter what she says, right?" Lena smirked at me, making me sigh. "Well, I am a legal adult, apparently. Let's go before she gets wise." With that, the four of us ran to the open door and down the stairs, leaving the surface world behind us.

I've never been in the subway before, believe it or not. I never had a need to go down there. And I think I'm glad I chose that. It was disgusting, with graffiti and garbage and… weird miscellaneous fluid stains in the corners. "Eugh, this is disgusting." I kicked a pop can away from me, sticking my hands into my jacket. "Doesn't anyone clean up down here?"

Lena rolled her eyes, and hopped down off the platform once a subway train came by. Taking the lead, she headed off down the tunnel, and we followed after her. Stepping through-or in Huey's case, over-a puddle, we came to a crossroads. The left tunnel was obviously where the train went, but on the right was a blocked path. A sign saying it was closed for renovations mounted on three orange and white boards. "Hmm. Now what's behind here?" Lena went to the side of the barrier, and began pushing it aside to make a gap big enough for us to move through.

"The old 818 train line," Webby answered. "Famous for Terra-firmian sightings. That's why it's closed off."

"The sign says ' **closed for renovations** '," Huey corrected.

"That's what they want you to think," Webby grinned. She headed after Lena, leaving the confused boy.

"Who is they?"

"Exactly." Huey and me exchanged a look as the girls continued pushing at the sign. Once Webby began helping though, the ground began to rumble at our feet. With a startled cry, I moved over to them with the triplet, and we held each others arms to steady ourselves as dust and rocks fell away over our heads.

Coughing at the particles in the air, I watched Lena pull out her phone to shine it into a newly made opening. "Well, we can't not go in at this point. Hello!?" She called, letting her voice echo around the walls. Casting a look at Webby and Huey, I jogged to catch up with Lena. Knowing my young friend, she'd be off telling the kid about her research about the Terra-firmians. The older child paused at the top of a flight of stairs, shining her phone down to see if there was anything worth checking.

"But one day the rightful prince will reunite the two tribes and put an end to their bitter conflict," Webby concluded as she and Huey caught up.

"And what's that?" Huey pointed at a random doodle in the upper corner of her book, making her chuckle awkwardly.

"Oh, just a drawing of a candy I wish they made. Webbi-dings."

"And that?" Lena pointed at the doodle beside that.

"Me as a superhero." Ah, such an active imagination this girl had. Wouldn't I give to be that young again. "Look, can we just focus on all the exciting stuff I just said?"

"So these Terra-thingies are responsible for that tremor?" Lena asked. Huey shook his head, taking his book out from under his hat again.

"According to the JWG, earthquakes are shifting tectonic plates. Science fact." He snapped it shut, standing proudly at his sound argument. "No reason for any of us to go in there. The book knows everything."

Lena raised a brow, and snatched the book from the boy. Huey gasped as she chucked it down the stairs, and we watched it bounce out of our sights. "Did the book now I was gonna do that?" Okay, I am really liking this kid. Heading down to the next floor and ducking under a blockade, we examined the new area. A rat ran past us squeaking, but that was the only sign of life down this far.

"Oh, I can't wait to meet a real Terra-firmian! I'm totally gonna sacrifice myself in the name of the rebellion." _Uh… what?_

"Oh, and then I can hunt down your attackers and avenge your death!" Lena added.

"Aw! That's sweet. There!" Webby dashed over to a wall, and I gulped nervously. Those were some pretty huge claw marks. "Claw marks! Proof they were here!"

"Even better! The tremors exposed three kinds of rock," Huey cheered. "Schist, marble, and gneiss. Ooh, do I spy some shale?" He knelt down and began examining the rock while checking his guide book for reference.

"How is that better than subway monsters?" Lena crossed her arms with a frown.

"'cause my thing's real."

"How can you dismiss this after all the stuff we've seen Scrooge?" I asked incredulously. "Dragons that hunt gold, Atlantis, the man-horse… thing?"

"It's a big book. You'd be surprised. Anything new we've seen I've added myself," he replied. "Now help me with the shale rock. Need it for my geology badge."

"Why don't you ask your best friend, the guidebook, to help you?" Webby asked sarcastically. "Oh, wait, you can't. It's a book." In response, Huey flipped through it before stopping with a smile.

" **How to properly handle rock samples in the field.** " He tucked it under his hat, and began giving himself a wide stance. Bending down, he slowly lifted the rock up, barely able to hold it in his noodle-like arms. I mean, talk about chicken bones-no offense to Gyro.

"Aahhhh!" A scream came from further down the hall, and Huey dropped the stone immediately. _Lena! Where'd she go!?_ Taking the kids' hands, I dragged them down towards a subway car, looking around for her. As we passed by a cart, Webby traced her hand over an odd circular indent in the metal. A banging sound came from inside the cart, and we moved back cautiously.

"What was that?" Huey asked. The door jiggled in place, and slowly moved to the side, sending several clouds of dust raining down. "Um, after you." Rolling my eyes, I took the lead in front of him and Webby, and climbed into the cart.

"Clear." Webby then climbed up beside me, and as Huey began hoisting himself up, Webby gave a loud scream.

"Terra-firmian!" I fell forwards at the surprise, having not gotten up yet and landed on my face. A cackle came from behind me, and Lena poked her head over a wall by a seat, holding a marker in her hand.

"Sorry, couldn't resist." Huey glared at her as he got up, while Webby gave her a high five. Huey looked around, and turned back to us with a smile.

"Just more subway junk. Now, if you're all done, I have some rock samples to collect." A large boom came from behind us, and we turned to see a wall was kicked down and a towering figure staring back. Whoever they were, it was hard to tell. The shadows masked all determinable features. Huey quickly snatched up a rock beside him and hurled it. However, the figure moved out of the way, having it bounce against the wall and towards the entrance they made.

"Hey, watch it!" What the-Louie?

"Louie?" Huey stated. From out of the shadows, Mrs. Beakley, the other two triplets, and Launchpad stared at us. And, oh, boy, did the housekeeper ever look mad.

"Granny?" Webby asked.

"Aah! Those are moles!" Launchpad, ever our 'brave' hero, dove behind the wall, shaking.

"Launchpad, it's just the guys," Dewey reminded him patiently. Launchpad murmured a reply, but I couldn't make it out.

"I can explain," Webby began as we all walked over to them.

"You are all in big trouble. I assume this was your idea." She directed that part towards Lena, as the girl narrowed her eyes.

"Sure, blame the mysterious rebel playing by her own rules," she scoffed. "It's not like we didn't have an adult down here with us."

"No back talk!" Mrs. Beakley snapped. "And April is clearly not an adult enough to handle you, apparently." _Wh-hey!_ I was in my mid twenties! I am more adult than Launchpad ever was and ever will be! "You made me come all the way down here, drag two more children and one man-child right into danger."

"Man-child!? Where!?" Launchpad sprung to his feet, looking around with a shudder. "Easy, LP. Easy. One monster at a time."

"Aren't you supposed to be crazy adventure family? This is like an afternoon field trip for you people," Lena remarked.

"Well, there won't be anymore afternoon field trips for you. I can assure you that." Oh, I am going to be in such trouble when we get out of here. Unless Scrooge decides to side with me, I'll be stuck inside the mansion doing bills for months.

"Granny, Lena didn't mean to-ah!" Webby gave a startled cry along with the rest of us as the ground began to shake under our feet, tossing the car on its sides. "Terra-firmians!"

"Naturally occurring tectonic shifts!" Huey, I will personally hit you on the head with that book you love so much if you don't shut up!" A series of loud bangs came from behind me and the kids, and as the rumbling quieted down, Mrs. Beakley leaned out of the vehicle to investigate.

"Splendid. We're stuck," she sighed. "It looks like the only safe way out of here is to get this train moving. Launchpad, get to the control room."

"No, Mrs. B.," Launchpad replied with a shake of his head. "I can't leave you alone with-I mean, uh, I don't know if I can." _Why do I believe he still sees us as mole creatures?_ "I've never crashed a train before."

"Well perhaps you could drive it **without** crashing it?" I suggested, stressing the word.

"Huh?" Mrs. Beakley sighed, clearly seeing the chauffeur wasn't going to get our point anytime soon.

"Just get to the control room and see what you can do," she sighed, rubbing the bridge of her beak.

"Fine," Launchpad relented. "Hey, Dewey, come with me. I need someone to help me for some reason." He guided the blue triplet out of the cart, and I could've sworn I saw him pick up something off the floor as he went. _Meh. Probably not too important… I hope._

"I'm going to the rear to see if I can detach us from the cave in. You, with me." Lena frowned as the housekeeper singled her out. "You've caused us enough grief."

"Aye aye, Colonel Crumpet," Lena mocked, giving a salute.

"We'll stay here and be on the lookout for Terra-firmians. It must be about halftime at The Great Games, so it'll be easier to spot one." Her granny gave her a confused look, but shrugged it off. If it wasn't harming their efforts to get out, then it was okay.

"Okay. Just stay put." She cast a look at me, giving me the clear message of 'so help me, you'll get out here and help. You are not going to hear the end of this'. With a groan, I hopped out of the car before I could say something I'd regret. Lena followed after me, and Mrs. Beakley took up the rear. "After you help us get out of here, you're never seeing Webby again."

"Ugh, okay, lady, you are real bad at asking for help," Lena said as Mrs. Beakley walked ahead of us. Once she went around the corner, we slowly made our way to join her. "Hey, April? Why are you so buddy-buddy with Webby anyway? Bit of an off choice in friends for an adult."

"I've known her since I was about twenty. She was, what, five when she first came to the mansion. With no people her age to hang out with, I sort of ended up being an older sister figure. I… don't really have that many friends my age. It's been me, Webby, Scrooge, and Mrs. Beakley for ten years after the… well, I won't bother explaining that right now." I didn't really know the girl that well, and I wasn't sure if explaining my past was a good thing or not. I knew the triplets and Donald more than I knew her, and I've only known them for a few weeks! "Point is, despite the rougher edges I clearly have, it's important to show how much you're willing to go for this family. Prove that you care for them."

Lena gave a small smile at my words, as we turned to watch Mrs. Beakley strain while trying to detach the train. "Looking good, Tea Time. Keep it up." She took out her phone, clicking away at it as we could hear Huey, Webby, and Louie chat further down the tracks.

"This would go a lot faster if you would give me a hand."

"Well, the sooner I help you, the sooner I never get to see my friends again, so…" Mrs Beakley turned back to the spike, and Lena's eyes widened as another remark came to her mind. "Want me to go get one of the more trustworthy kids to help, or am I still not allowed to talk to them?"

"Do not mouth off to me," the elder woman finally snapped, standing up. "It's your fault we're in this mess. Who raised you, anyway? I know a bad influence when I see one." _Hey!_ I wasn't too fond of Lena, but that was entirely uncalled for. Lena's face turned into one of regret and hurt, avoiding the speaker's eyes. "Those are good children with bright futures."

"Yeah? And what does that make me?" She finally turned around, stuffing her phone in her skirt. The tension was thick in the air, and Mrs. Beakley looked away, clearly not wanting to answer.

"I don't know." Seeing the conversation as over, she turned back to the spike, and began kicking it. Lena rolled her eyes, and walked away for a moment. Seizing the few seconds, I glared at Mrs. Beakley, who only raised a brow at me. I couldn't say anything right now, least Lena heard it. I needed to have a chat with her too, apparently, once we returned to the mansion. I was doing my **job**. Keeping an eye on the children. I did not see any problem with coming down here. If she was going to blame anyone, then blame me. Not her. _She's just a kid, Beakley. Give her a break._

"If you're gonna vandalize, at least do it right." She returned with a crowbar in her hands, and with a twirl stuck it under the top. Mrs. Beakley went to the other side, grabbing the upper part of the pole, and helped her loosen the spike. With a few tugs, the metal piece flew up and onto the ground a few feet away.

"I suppose you're good for something." What do you know? Guess Mrs. Beakley can say something nice today! _Not!_

"Ugh, don't hurt yourself with the compliments, Abbey Road. I'm just trying to help," Lena replied, hopping up to the door above her.

"All right, I've had it up to here with your horrid behavior!" The moment she said the words, the lights came on in the front of the train, and moved on to the very cart Lena was in. The girl gasped for a moment, looking at Mrs. Beakley and me. The girl shuffled to the side, getting out of the light while still staring at the wall. _Why? Is there something behind us?_ We turned around, but saw nothing, like I expected. What was up with that? What spooked the girl?

The train's wheels creaked on the tracks, and slowly began to roll forward, knocking Lena off. I caught her before she hit the ground, arms preventing her from hitting her head as Mrs. Beakley began to jog ahead of us. "Come on!" Mrs. Beakley reached the cart first, keeping one hand on a handrail and another outreached for us. Panting, we ran to grab her, and were pulled up onto the cart just as-the heck!?

"What are those?" I asked, as we all leaned to the side to look ahead of the train. Several boulders were speeding ahead, chasing the front of the subway. As fast as it happened, we could hear the loud and terrified screaming of the children, just as the cart began to sway back and forth, barely keeping itself on the tracks. Lena was almost thrown off again, until I wrapped an arm around her to keep her on. Mrs. Beakley held both handrails, keeping us pressed against the closed door, until a large swing knocked us off, sending us flying through the tunnel. I tumbled across the floor, and gasped as my head made contact with a rock.

Y-you know… concussions aren't s-something I was known for. But… but now seemed like a good moment to p... pass out...

(Time Skip)

"I can't believe you let April get knocked out! What were ya thinkin'?"

"She just got thrown off the subway, Uncle Scrooge. She doesn't have any other injuries. She'll be fine. Right, Lena?" _H-Huey...? Scrooge?_

"Yeah." _No… too soon to wake up. Too loud._ _Let me sleep forever._ And why was my head so cold? "Huh. Guess she's coming around."

 _Apparently. Still too soon though._ Blinking my eyes wearily, I looked up. I was in the TV room, lying on the couch with a blanket draped over me. "O… kay? Why are you all staring at me?" Scrooge, Mrs. Beakley, and the children gave me incredulous and amused looks. "What?"

"Oh, I give up," Mrs. Beakley muttered, walking towards the door. "I'll go get you your breakfast, April, and a fresh ice pack." _Ho-how long was I out fo-_ _ice pack?_ Oh. Right. I was thrown off the train and hit my head.

"Um, did I do something wrong?" Scrooge shook his head, and without another word, left me with the kids with a small smile. He knew I was alright. I've been banged up before, and a simple rock on the skull wouldn't slow me down. He knows I'm fine, so I trust in his observation. _Besides, an adventurer like him knows how to look for serious wounds._ "So… would one of you tell me what the heck happened?"

"The creatures were real, they didn't know what we were at first, thinking we were attacking them, we made peace, and then we all escaped," Huey listed off on his fingers. "I think they actually thought we were some rebel force and mysterious creatures too. Oddly enough, they had the same color theme as us too." _Red, green, blue, pink, and black, you mean?_

"And Beakley made pancakes!" Louie cheered. A chuckle escaped me at the happy declaration before I winced at the pounding at the back of my skull.

"Alright, children," Lena smirked, seeing my pain. "Let's give the weather girl here a break." _Weather girl?_ Is this because my name is a month? _Well, it's... better than coffee girl. Slightly._ The four relented, and the boys headed out behind her, but not before I got a quick hug from Webby and a sly grin from Louie. _So much for Don talking to him._ I sighed, leaning against the arm. Kid still has a crush on me, and probably will continue to flirt with me for as long as he lives here. _Okay then. I can deal with that. As long as it doesn't get out of hand, then it's no problem at all._

All I good guess was that one of the kids must have helped me get out of there, but which one, I don't really know. _But I think I have a pretty good guess. After all, Lena's here now._ Did she finally win over Mrs. Beakley? Did she help get me out of there? "Oh, my head hurts too much to ponder life's questions."

"April are you in here?" Speak of the drake, and he shall appear. Donald stuck his head out from behind the door, and once he spotted me came right over. His eyes widened, taking in the bag of ice wrapped in a towel on top of my head. My signature beanie was laying on my chest, letting my head feathers stick out more than usual. "What happened to you?"

"Do you really want to know, or would it be better if I spared you the explanation?" He opened his beak, before shutting it quickly. "Thought so. Why are you looking for me?"

"Uncle Scrooge has some plan involving taking the kids to see some cricket at a temple tomorrow, and he invited me along. Surprisingly," he muttered, crossing his arms. "I was wondering if you were coming too, but seeing how you've got that..." he motioned to the bag, making my mouth thin.

"Of course. Just a little ding, Donald. I'm not out of commission yet. Also, you should know that wherever Scrooge goes, I usually am not that far behind. Not that into crickets, mind you, but a temple sounds pretty cool." Grinning, I slid the ice pack off, sitting more upright. Short brown feathers stuck out randomly, giving me a weird case of bedhead. _This is why I wear the hat._ Donald stifled a laugh, and I playfully stuck out my tongue at him. "Oh, take off, Don."

"Ha ha ha! Whatever you say, coffee girl." I threw the bag at his head, earning a startled quack from him and a laugh from me. It's a trip to see a cricket. A bug. Honestly, what was there to worry about? Its screeching music making our ears bleed? _Let's just hope I didn't just jinx us._

* * *

 **I really am sorry it took such a long time to write this. This term was so much more painful than the last one. I won't abandon this story, but like I said above, updates might sometimes take a while to come out.**

 **Until next time!**

 **Angel**


	8. Author's Note

**Sorry readers, but this story is being discontinued. I've had a lot of trouble following along with the series due to school, and it's progressing so fast that I can't keep up with it and figure out my plot at the same time. Thanks everyone for reading, and if this story ever does pick up again, I'll give it more attention than I originally showed.**

 **Angel**


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